


Sex is a Battle, Love is War

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Dacia Favourite, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post EW, Rough Sex, Yaoi, jilted Duo, life sucks but the sex can still be damn good, not a lick of romance so don't go looking for it here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 18:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14526525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by Cinderzol--Anger and resentment. That's all he feels when he eyes the perfect couple for the hundredth time this evening. It isn't Relena's fault, really. It isn't Heero's fault either. That leaves...No. No. Anger. Anger is better than guilt and regret any day, in Duo Maxwell's book anyway. He wrenches his eyes away when he sees Heero smile minutely at something the princess glued on his arm says. No, that ain't fair. But who cares.





	1. First Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Anger and resentment. That's all he feels when he eyes the perfect couple for the hundredth time this evening. It isn't Relena's fault, really. It isn't Heero's fault either. That leaves...No. _No_. Anger. Anger is better than guilt and regret any day, in Duo Maxwell's book anyway. He wrenches his eyes away when he sees Heero smile minutely at something the princess glued on his arm says. No, that ain't fair. But who cares.   
  
He wants to screw something _\--_ someone - over. Badly. Or just screw them. Now that's a thought...  
  
Of all the times he should feel such malice. Rancor even. At a fucking _party_. He sips disgustingly sweet Champaign from a tall glass-prop, scanning the formally-dressed crowd for the few familiar faces there. Looking for a victim. To hurt someone. Someone to hurt him. Whatever.  
  
Quatre is not far away. Trowa is close to the blond, looking like there's no place in the entire earth sphere he would rather be.   
  
They are _close_.   
  
Resentment swelling, Duo looks further, to where Wufei is listening intently to something Sally is saying.  
  
_Fuck them all._  
  
Well no. Not them. He doesn't have that many friends left alive to afford to lose any. Besides, Duo Maxwell will do many things, but one thing he will never do is hurt his friends. On purpose. Especially for something That Isn't a Problem.  
  
It's not a problem. Really.  
  
His eyes pass over more people. Ah, there...the perfect target. Why hasn't he thought of that before?  
  
An enemy.   
  
Nothing to lose then. Detaching his back from the wall he's been leaning on, he watches as a slight inclination of the regal head sends shorter tresses framing a cold face into temporary disarray. His unwitting victim of choice smiles to Noin beside him, and Duo can see even from a distance that the smile never reaches the frozen eyes. A curt nod, then he is moving away, going wherever. Already on an intercept course, it's no trouble for Duo to plant himself in front of his prey a few steps later.   
  
And he's staring into the blank face of Zechs Merquise. Milliardo Peacecraft. Prince of Sanq.   
  
Relena's brother.  
  
"Wanna fuck?"  
  
The indifferent look doesn't change. The prince doesn't even blink. Impressive.  
  
"How much?"  
  
Duo realizes something must be wrong with him as it actually takes him several seconds to process the insult not even veiled in that polite, cultured question. His face starts burning, and he barely restrains himself from flinging his Champaigne, glass and all, into the hated face.   
  
Wouldn't want to make a scene, god forbid, would we.  
  
"Fuck you."   
  
Softly. Polite. In tone at least, if not words. He turns and swiftly walks to the nearest exit, managing to lose the useless prop of a glass in the process of fleeing.   
  
Duo Maxwell. Fleeing.   
  
Shame mixes with the anger, and not only at the insult. Impotent rage makes him grit his teeth. He has to get out of there, and fast. Before he does something very unrefined and impolite. Very L2. To the Sanq prince, and incidentally his host, no less.   
  
He is barely out the wide double doors when a weight slams him into the wall beside the exit. Yes, something is very very wrong with Duo Maxwell today if someone can sneak up on _him_. Apparently rage doesn't fare any better than love in the seeing department.   
  
He struggles on instinct against the body - tall, too heavy, male, _pressing_ \- pinning his to the wall, he can't move his hands; the angle is such that a knee to the groin is not an option, and the moment it takes him to open his mouth - to bite? to shout? - he is released just as abruptly as he was attacked. He looks _up_ , and astonishment makes him lean against the wall he just had been pinned against, washing away all other sentiment for the moment.  
  
"Did you just..." He interrupts the stupid question himself, while the blond prince just watches him.   
  
"You should be prepared for that kind of reply when you ask questions like that."   
  
Duo almost flushes again at the reminder but a faint smirk riles him up. He remembers he hates the bastard. Has hated him for a long time. Yes. Anger and resentment. Familiar, thus firmer, ground. He straightens up under the cool gaze.   
  
Crossing his arms at his chest, the prince asks nonchalantly.  
  
"Care to explain what brought this on?"  
  
Hah, so he _is_ curious. Letting an uncaring smile twist his lips, Duo shrugs.  
  
"What's there to explain? I like men, you like men; I'm good looking, you're not so bad yourself..." He pauses but Merquise doesn't refute the bold assumption, neither does he take the bait; it's an outrageous understatement and they both know it. "...So, why not?"  
  
For several moments his one-time enemy just looks at him, contemplating. The pause gives Duo a chance to ascertain that their little scuffle has passed unnoticed, as the hum of too many conversations continues uninterrupted from inside the huge ballroom; people, mostly waiters are going in and out the door paying little attention to the two men in formal attire standing a little to the side. The corridor they are in is relatively dark compared to the exuberant light coming from the ballroom. There are tall potted plants a few steps to their right producing even darker shadows. Never one for the light, Duo moves a little in their direction. It's always better if the enemy can't see you when you can see them, is a flitting thought as Duo gazes at the ballroom chandelier lights flickering on Merquise's too handsome face. He's looking inside now seemingly unaware of, or merely unconcerned by Duo's scrutiny, or his `exposed' position.   
  
Never one for long silences either, Duo speaks again.  
  
"Relax Zechs. I'm not talking about moonlit walks and roses...Just fucking. Nothing complicated. Like say...blowing up the planet..."   
  
The cool gaze is on him again and somehow manages to make him feel like he was eight years old. He almost regrets the cheap shot. Almost.   
  
Merquise ignores the sorry attempt of a taunt as he goes straight for the throat.  
  
"And this offer of yours has nothing to do with the fact that HeeroYuy is presently...nuzzling my sister's ear, as it were?"   
  
_Oh yeah?_ Heero did not _nuzzle_. He must be simply _talking_ to her ear; it is quite noisy in there after all. Duo throttles the impulse of checking to see for himself. The choice of words is meant to gall him. Duo's eyes narrow. There isn't a cheap shot he won't _not_ take now.  
  
"If it did...wouldn't you like that? To take something from your rival? After all, you never did manage to beat him in a fight; you should be jumping at this opportunity to get back at him."  
  
"By taking his leftovers?"  
  
This insult hurts more than the first one but Duo swallows it easier. It's the truth after all. Apparently the prince is either very astute, or has his sources.  
  
"I see," Duo smirks knowingly. "What's the matter? Afraid of poaching on a territory that Heero has marked as his?"  
  
The last word has barely left his mouth when his back is slammed against the wall, Merquise's weight pushing the air out of his lungs to be captured in the other man's mouth on his - hard, devouring; tongue expertly going so deep Duo can't move his jaw. It happens so fast, he has to wonder whether there has been more than Champaigne in his glass earlier but no, he hasn't drunk more than a few sips. No reaction time would have been good enough; the man hasn't been called the Lightning Count for nothing.   
  
His wrists are captured and the grip is unbeatable, his whole body pushed up, his toes barely touching the floor, weight supported only on a muscular thigh shoved between his own, against his groin, pressing, moving, _rocking_. It's overwhelming. Duo can't do much to stop any of this...Should he even try?   
  
All thought is blanked out by the unexpected assault.   
  
And it feels wonderful.   
  
But he can't breathe. Renewing his struggle, he attempts to at least free his wrists - to push? to hold? -  but it's all futile: the prince won't release him until he's taken his fill. Staked his claim? Made his point?... Whatever his intention is.   
  
It should be alarming. Really.  
  
At last, and at the same time, all too soon, he is let go, the hot tongue ceasing the comprehensive invasion. Leaving his mouth, it trails a bit of saliva down his chin which Duo absently brushes, vaguely surprised that he can move his hand now. The thigh is removed too, and he is left leaning against the wall, panting, battling sudden arousal.   
  
Belatedly he remembers where they are and looks around in a semi-panic but fortunately there is no one in sight just now. That doesn't mean there hasn't been one around a few moments earlier though. Heat rises to his face, belatedly too, when he thinks about exactly how that had looked like.  
  
He glares daggers at the calm prince who somehow manages to look as cool and composed as ever. Like he should, if they were having a polite conversation. Like he hadn't just been forcing his tongue down Duo's throat deep enough to lick his tonsils.   
  
Unflappable bastard. Duo hates him _admiringly_. Not a contradiction.  
  
"You and Heero?" Prompts the unflappable bastard after he's decided that Duo has had enough time to gather enough breath to speak.  
  
"Me and Heero?..."   
  
A small bitter laugh escapes him, and he's suddenly too tired to be angry.    
  
"Me and Heero."   
  
Words start tumbling from his mouth then - haltingly, _unwelcome_ , as he never lies dammit - though at times like this, he wants to. Desperately. If he can lie to another, it will be easier to blind himself to the truth a little while longer.   
  
All the good that will bring him.   
  
"Me and Heero. We had an understanding. - During the war. No time for things like that. - For anyone. We worked close....There was -tension. We fucked. A few times - many times. It was - good..."  
  
He falls silent as a particularly vivid memory assaults him; one of so many. Forces himself to continue. Past it.   
  
"...It...made life...good. We - talked. Got closer... Became friends, you could say..."   
  
Another memory. Duo stares at the floor by his feet, hard. Until all he can see are the patterns on the carpet.   
  
He could be talking to a statue, the prince is that silent. It makes this easier.  
  
"...We always said that... this...we...that it was temporary _\--_ because there was no one else...couldn't have been. That after the war..." if they survived; unlikely, "...we... we would be free to be with whomever we wanted to...girls, boys..."   
  
"And now...the war's finally over. Heero said...we... had a choice now. ...Chose Relena..."   
  
Saying the words aloud, he can feel his heart break, _now_ , at this moment, and it fucking _hurts_. But it's Not a Problem.  
  
"Heh ...I had been saying it too. ...We agreed. No surprise there. ..I-I just h-hoped..."   
  
His voice breaks and Duo freezes at that, mortified. No no _no_. Rising panic, shame _\--_ of all humiliating things, this is the worst. This cannot be happening. Hell. He cannot possibly break down and _cry_ in front of _Zechs_ frickin' _Merquise_.  
  
His immediate instinct is to flee, and he does _\--_ or attempts to, before he is crushed to the wall, _again_. What? Can't the bastard think of some other move _\--_ one that doesn't involve wall-slamming and physical domination with his superior weight and height?   
  
Laugh bubbles in him but it's easy to restrain it _\--_ it isn't _funny_ _\--_ and he has to get away, _now_. Panic is fueling him _\--_ he can't let Merquise see him like this, this is all one big mistake _\--_ he almost manages to squirm out of the hold but no, he's pinned again _\--_ the hold not at all _invasive_ like the last one _\--_ the prince is merely letting his body mass and the wall to keep him in place. But he is an unyielding, solid bulk against him and Duo can't budge him, can't hurt him, and is that even possible? The only way out seems if he manages to slide down and circumvent the freakishly long legs but that would look ridiculous, and Duo stops squirming just in time to hear the rasped "Calm. Down."   
  
The cold tone makes him see reason, and, thank goodness, the panic gradually deserts him. He breathes deeply, feeling more foolish by the second.   
  
Way to go Maxwell. If not lovesick confessions, panic attacks certainly make a great impression. He must have been more pathetic than that in his life but right now he can't think of an occasion that has felt more utterly humiliating that this.  
  
Merquise finally lets him go, and when the arms around him are removed Duo belatedly realizes the prince has been holding him. At the moment he is too dumb to make anything out of it.  
  
His one-time enemy turns away then and takes several steps along the corridor. Appropriately disgusted most likely. But then he stops and glances at Duo's inert form over his shoulder.   
  
For reasons he can't fully explain, Duo chooses to interpret that as the invitation it couldn't have been, and moves to follow.   
  
The party is boring anyway.  
  
+  
  
They walk along many long corridors, passing curiously uncurious waiters and other serving personnel along the way. They all bow respectfully to them, or rather, to His Royal Highness. As if anyone would bow down to a teenage ex-terrorist from L2. This is Sanq _\--_ saving the world doesn't count much against their prince, attempts to blow up the said world notwithstanding.  
  
The two men receive more attention from the Preventer security agents stationed at various places throughout the palace. There are no reasons for concern however  - it's peacetime now, we're all one big happy family - and they reach their destination without slowing the brisk pace Merquise seems to favor.   
  
Their destination turns out to be a bedroom. A _royal_ bedroom, by the look of it. Even _the_ royal bedroom.  
  
The first thing Duo notices are the antiquated chairs and screens, the old-fashioned guard-de-robe, the intricately woven carpet and the silk covering the walls. It's really too much to take all at once. He knows intellectually it all should be replica _\--_ every child knew how Sanq had fallen, it's royal palace burnt to ashes - but to the street orphan it seems real enough; this pre-Colony _luxury_ traditional for European aristocrats for centuries on end. He can't help but be a trifle awed. The guest rooms' more modern furnishings are a far cry for what's in front of him.   
  
Then he contemplates the bed and his awe takes on different proportions _\--_ it's canopied and ...well, _enormous_ , and looks like it has been conjured right out of a fairy tale. It certainly looks like something only royalty would sleep on.   
  
Taking in the lush surroundings, he turns to the one member of the royalty that led him there to find the usual lack of identifiable expression firmly in place. Why had he ever bothered with a mask? You couldn't read his face anyway...  
  
But no, is that...the barest hint of amusement flickering in the ice-cold eyes?   
  
Duo keeps from flushing by sheer force of will, resenting having been caught gawking at the rich room like the poor L2 street kid he had been. Being a source of amusement for the aristocratic son of a bitch wasn't why he has followed him here!  
  
His thoughts on the topic are hijacked abruptly when the prince finally speaks.  
  
"Undress me."  
  
Duo's reaction at the calmly-spoken command wavers between outrage and amusement. He ignores the slow heat the words spread like poison in his belly and chooses to go with the latter _\--_ after all he had been demonstrated just now that amusement exudes superiority.   
  
And now he knows the prince has accepted his offer.   
  
With an insolent smirk he saunters over and takes to the task at hand. He looks his enemy straight in the eye, accepting the challenge he sees there. Lifting his arms to the lapels of the black tux coat he tugs up and outward, then down. Given his smaller stature, and the prince just standing there making no move to assist, it requires a bit of stretching but he manages. He lets the coat fall to the floor uncaring for its future fate, and moves his fingers to the pale blue cravat adorning the princely neck. Resisting the momentary urge to strangle, he makes short work of it and continues on to the white silk shirt. Without haste his fingers work their way through the buttons, as he finally looks away from the unwavering cold blue eyes to his hands.   
  
It is less sexual like this and he want to keep it that way for a little longer. To see how far the prince will push.  
  
Up close, Merquise smells faintly of nice, masculine, expensive cologne Duo has never smelled before. Inexplicably, it's a smell of warmth and comfort. It doesn't make any sense.  
  
Once the shirt is removed Duo doesn't spare a glance to the perfectly-defined naked chest before him, or the pale blond tresses spilling over the muscular shoulders. Instead his attention is absorbed lower, with unbuckling the belt and subsequently the black pants covering the prince's lower half. He doesn't let himself think about anything, not about the washboard stomach his fingers can't help but brush in their work, and much less about anything he could find lower. Focus on the task at hand.  It's nothing he hasn't seen before.  
  
As it is, what he finds is inconspicuous boxers, light blue, and gently tented at the front. Nothing he hasn't seen before. Right.   
  
Throughout the process of _disrobing_ , the prince doesn't move at all. He doesn't grab at Duo, or touch him in any other way. Duo is surprised but not much. It's obviously all in the game. Being a little miffed about it can't be helped.   
  
While Duo stares at the oh so ordinary blue boxers for a heartbeat, the decision of exactly how to continue is taken out of his hands as the prince steps away and out of the pants pooled at his ankles. It's not like Duo would _kneel_ to help with that. He retreats back to give the now mostly naked man space but before he can do anything else, Merquise speaks again.  
  
"And yourself."    
  
Duo has to backtrack mentally to find the meaning - `undress yourself'-this time.   
  
This is harder. The prince has divested himself of socks and shoes, and - yes, Duo's eyes find the blue boxers on top of the heap of clothes on the floor - underwear too, and is by now half-sitting, half-reclining on the huge bed against the headboard. No naughty bits are to be seen, as Merquise has draped a part of a bed sheet across his thighs, the rest of the bedding pushed to one side. Duo can't help but scoff at the false modesty. His distraction has prevented him from seeing anything else however. Pity.   
  
And now the prince is watching him just standing there, waiting to be obeyed. Duo has to fight off another blush, and forces himself to start undressing as if no one's there, unthinking. He has stripped for a lover before but this is harder. No appreciative audience this time _\--_ it isn't Heero's fiery gaze riveted on his body and hands twitching with impatience to touch. It is Zechs Merquise's frigid stare, face unreadable and unconcerned, body language indifferent and utterly still.   
  
The silence is oppressive. As is the stare of the man on the bed. Duo has to fight the urge of making a haste discarding the rest of his clothes. He isn't teasing but he wouldn't tug desperately at his shirt and pants either.   
  
All the same, he knows he is undressing to have sex. But it doesn't feel that way. It's perplexing.   
  
He's surprised to find he is semi-hard at this point.  
  
When he's done, he straightens and meets the cool gaze in a silent challenge of his own, unabashed by his nakedness. He is less calm on the inside but he knows what his body looks like. He has never been ashamed of it, and he isn't going to start now just because Merquise looks like he might be staring at a piece of furniture. Scratch that. Looks like a fucking Greek god staring at a piece of furniture. Duo has seen perfectly sculpted Greek gods in the form of statues, and this one is no different. Heh.  
  
Thankfully, the prince spends no time on watching him stand. He doesn't deign to speak this time, flicking his eyes to the bed in front of him instead.  
  
A little anger boils up but is quickly smothered, as Duo scoffs but obeys the unspoken command and settles on his knees at the foot of the bed, facing the royal bastard.   
  
Who predictably doesn't do anything. If it isn't for the tenting of the respectably-colored pale tan sheet covering the prince's middle Duo would have sweared the man was a eunuch.   
  
It's unnerving to say the least. Duo wants to clutch at his braid but doesn't.  
  
Still, excitement and some fear make his heart thump faster. He can still feel his body being pushed against the wall by the naked man opposite him. The hard, unyielding hold.  
  
Inescapable.  
  
What has he gotten himself into this time?  
  
It's a paradox _\--_ he hardens further feeling the frozen eyes move over him. They sweep over his upper body and focus somewhere below his waist. Where his erection is obviously proud at the inspection. Duo scowls at it and almost misses the next soft words.  
  
"Touch it."   
  
The increased huskiness of the voice pleases him and his cock twitches at the words. He takes it in hand and slowly drags his fist up and down its length, gathering and smearing precum. Has to grit his teeth. It wouldn't do to moan now. He is close to victory. The prince will _have_ to touch him now.   
  
He smirks when Merquise reaches to the ornate nightstand closest to him, muscles rippling under the skin with the fluid motion.  A short rummaging later and the prince is reclining again in his previous position, small tube in hand. He completely disregards Duo's triumphant expression as he tosses the lube at the ex-gundam pilot.   
  
Duo instinctively catches it, confusion replacing the smirk. What _the fuck_ is that? He can't even begin to contemplate what Merquise can or cannot be insinuating passing him the lube.  
  
He is spared the effort as the next command hits him.  
  
"Prepare yourself."  
  
Initial disbelief quickly dissipates. _Fuck that!_  
  
"Fuck you!"   
  
His newly remembered anger flares and he has to just breathe for several heartbeats. Sadly, murder is not an option anymore. But he's done with playing submissive, silently obeying the princely orders. What's next, `here's my cock, fuck yourself while I read a book'?   
  
"I don't care for this shit. I'm outta here."  
  
He jerkily moves to get out of bed, almost jumping in haste.   
  
In the next moment he is face down on the floor, his braid hitting the carpet half a second later. His right leg is twisted awkwardly and still on the bed, the ankle in an iron grip. No way is this happening. The bastard had _tripped_ him!   
  
He ungraciously rolls on his back, murderous fury in his eyes, and nearly succeeds in catching Merquise in the face with his left foot in the process. That would have felt good but the bastard's reaction is lightning fast, as always. He expertly dodges the kick without losing his grip on Duo's ankle, and a second later he bends his entire upper body over the edge of the mattress, arms outstretched and grasping Duo's middle. Duo's body is tense with surprise _\--_ a mistake, as it's easier to be manhandled this way. A quick pull and a heave later and he's effortlessly lifted onto the bed again, and dragged to its center. Back and head on the mattress, and a prince between his spread legs.  
  
Merquise has let go of his waist but has captured his left ankle. Duo is overall free to move but doesn't, anger somehow forgotten again, as he stares at the suddenly alive face of the man towering over him and the mass of pale hair streaming down towards him. The prince's eyes are blazing with cold triumph and a touch of irritation which Duo knows he should hate, _will_ hate, any minute now. The bastard is beautiful though, and scary, and awful, and Duo is distracted enough to allow a short pull on his ankle up and away, spreading him further.  
  
His prey has turned predator.  
  
Duo is truly afraid now.   
  
To think he just despised the bastard for only muttering orders without doing anything. Careful what you wish for...  
  
He can't stop this now, not with Merquise looking at him like that, _hungry_ at last, but cold and _angry_ at the same time. Why is he angry? Because Duo tried running away?  
  
Would he even consider stopping if I said _no?_ Duo wonders detachedly as the prince single-handedly squirts some gel on his palm from a tube which Duo has though lost in the scuffle. Thank god for small mercies. He keeps staring at his enemy's face and doesn't even blink as two cool wet fingers find his opening and unceremoniously push inside.   
  
It hurts; he feels pinpricks in his eyes and they start watering but he stubbornly doesn't utter a sound.  
_  
I wanted this. I asked him for this.  
  
He will not stop. _  
  
He has lost the game on his bluff, and he would suffer the consequences. As the fingers inside him move - to stretch, not please - Duo contemplates briefly of saying _no_ aloud, for the record, but is distracted by his _erection_ twitching again _\--_ the erection he also thought lost in the scuffle.   
  
Apparently not. Not that it matters. What follows will certainly take care of that, and not in the good way either. He has no illusions _\--_ it's going to hurt.   
  
A lot, he mentally adds, catching a first glimpse of a thick cock protruding from blond curls.   
  
Heart loud and fast in his ears, Duo abandons himself to his fate. He will not resist.  
  
The fingers are removed and Duo involuntarily closes his eyes preparing for the worse pain to come. When it doesn't, he peeks up to find Merquise slicked and poised for entry. Hungry. Looking at him with that unreadable expression again.  
  
_Waiting._  
  
Duo almost laughs. The game is not over? They are still fighting?   
  
He _can_ say _no_. And it will go no further.   
  
The icy eyes dare him to back down _\--_ he should, pain is coming _\--_ but he remains silent, daring the prince to continue. Does he really expect Duo to yield his own game? Battle-like adrenaline makes him smile _\--_ cold and taunting - and the moment's over. With a swift push Merquise is in him.  
  
Duo's body arches from the bed at the too fast invasion _\--_ and apparently the tall prince is commensurately developed everywhere because it feels like nothing he has felt before _\--_ and Heero isn't small by any standard. Duo feels too stretched, too full; he gulps air in harsh pants, and tears are definitely leaking from his eyes this time, but otherwise he bites his lip to stay silent. It's an impossible feeling - he can't imagine a movement from the cock inside him that wouldn't break him. Merquise's breathing is heavy too now, and Duo is vaguely pleased about that.   
  
Until the prince _nudges_ him slightly _inside_ and somehow he's big enough that even that minute movement presses against Duo's prostate. He can't help a gasp at that as his whole body suddenly feels hot and light and heavy and _tingling_ all the way to his toes and fingertips.   
  
The feeling only intensifies as Merquise starts fucking him in earnest.  
  
Duo knows there's pain somewhere, at the borders of his consciousness _\--_ he hasn't been properly prepared, and Merquise isn't being gentle _\--_ and Duo will be sore and sorry later. Now it's pleasure, blindingly-sharp and focused, that makes his thighs tremble wildly and his hands claw and clench at the bed sheets. He is keeping as silent as possible _\--_ he's stubborn, he will never give the bastard the satisfaction of hearing him moan _\--_ and he won't touch that perfect body either, a twisted revenge for something he can't quite remember. But his hips meet the forceful thrusts in a powerful counterpoint _\--_ an involuntary concession of need but _that_ he _just can't help..._  
  
When it gets too much one of his hands _\--_ his _free_ hands _\--_ seeks out his neglected erection but Merquise swiftly intercepts the limb with his own free hand. Duo glares and barely restrains a whine but manages to catch it in time, but _dammit_ , it's not fair! Then he notices the bastard _smirking_ and he would definitely hit him if he wasn't so close...and it's not going to happen that way, he _needs_ the extra stimulation...Won't beg...so _close_...In frantic desperation, he lifts his hips to meet each slam; he wants, he needs _more_...And just as new tears, of frustration, prick his eyes -he's suddenly _there_ , and it's a blackout.   
  
There is wetness on his stomach and he's left shuddering and quivering all over, and knows the prince has come too _\--_ he can feel _it_ now but he's not able to tell when. He has been silent, just as Duo has been. Such is their game.   
  
Merquise slips out and falls back and Duo can't help a reactive shudder as they both lie on the messed up bed, catching their breath.   
  
After a while, the prince moves to resume his favorite position _\--_ reclining against the headboard and Duo can just _see_ the self-satisfied smirk that would be twisting the cruel lips. He lifts his head to make sure - this time the royal bastard will definitely get it _\--_ but no - the unreadable expression on the prince's face has come back, eyes cold and guarded. He still doesn't say anything. The mussed up hair and the wet, softening cock are the only evidence of what has transpired _\--_ otherwise he looks just like when he first lied down _\--_ and somehow, somehow that's worse than the most superior smirk.  
  
Duo's fury is hot and potent and overwhelming but unleashing it against the soulless son of a bitch seems to defeat the purpose.   
  
He doesn't know what galls him so much. He had offered a fuck and had been fucked as offered. What is left is for him is to get out of there before he does something regrettable.   
  
Like giving Merquise a _real_ reason to wear a mask.  
  
He gets up on not too steady feet and carefully dresses with calmness belying his renewed anger. He debates chancing his voice _\--_ how long has it been since he last said anything? _\--_ to say...what? Goodbye? See you around? Thanks for the fuck? But when he turns to face Merquise, the prince's eyes are closed and his breathing even. Sleeping. Or pretending to.   
  
Duo leaves, closing the door carefully, justifiably proud of his restraint.  
  
+  
  
He spends the night in a dreamless sleep in the bedroom assigned to him as an honor guest to the palace for the duration of the peace celebrations.   
  
He remembers about Heero only when he sees the man himself at breakfast and not a second earlier.   
  
Duo smiles.


	2. Second Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Cinderzol   
> \--  
> Duo makes no more offers. Zechs doesn't wait for any.

Cassiopeia. A star, a star, a star and two more. In his mind's eye a woman's slender finger traces five yellow dots on a faded page. Just as his eyes follow the familiar pattern in the sky above. M. Or is it W? Cassiopeia, the Queen. He has known her form long before he saw the stars.  
  
Now he can't get enough of them.  
  
It has been two years since he saw the sky for the first time _\--_ the original, one and only thing in the known universe for which the word has any real meaning. The novelty has yet to wear off.  
  
It is not something one can properly imagine. Being among the stars, in vacuum, is quite a different feeling. They are cold, and prosaic, and _immediate_ _\--_ and look nothing like they do from Earth. On Earth, the stars paint mythology.   
  
Most colonies have "skies" with "stars". First settlers feeling lost and alone in an unfamiliar place away from home. Nostalgic and all that crap.  Not on L2 though. Or maybe they did, long ago. Duo has never cared enough to check because nobody remembers it now. So L2's "sky" is black. No stars, no fancy constellation reproductions, no unnecessary costs. Who cares about starlight where dying from hunger is considered one of the more benign ways to die anyway?  
  
_Shit_. Here we go again. The residual _\--_ and lately seemingly constant _\--_ bitterness can't let him enjoy even this small moment of peace.   
  
Okay, _not_ going there.   
  
The sky...is unbelievable. He knows, intellectually, the physics of it. Of course. But a part of him will always be in awe with the knowledge that between him, here, on Earth, and, say, Beta Cassiopeiae flickering merrily up there, there is _nothing_ _\--_ nothing solid at least, no man-made barriers _\--_ nothing but air, layer upon thinning layer, and then, vacuum... It's such an intriguing phenomenon. That you can leave Earth's surface and cross into space from virtually anywhere - and not from a finite number of designated exit points... _Natural_ atmosphere. The mind boggles.   
  
Earth is funny like that.  
  
The cold marble he's lying on makes him shiver but the view is worth it. It would be better if he were in a desert of course, or somewhere high on a mountain. The sky over Sanq has too much reflected light and too few stars in it, and the crescent moon is not helping any _\--_ but fortunately old Cassy is strong enough to overcome the artificial hindrance.   
  
His time in Sanq is drawing to an end. The more official part of the peace celebrations will be over by this evening. Then in two days he'll have to decide once and for all what to do with himself. Where to go. Not that there aren't many options. Just that having to think about it at all comes as a surprise, being alive and all that. And for a short _\--_ very short _\--_ while, he had... - well, not really, but still...kind of -  thought, that maybe, just maybe, he would have someone to make that choice with...  
  
Oh _fuck_. Annoyance, mostly at his own wayward, _stupid_ , thoughts, sweeps through him and successfully robs him of any remaining pleasure or desire to stargaze. This is just so... _stupid!_  
  
Not until half a minute ago he had everything under control. He had spent the day smiling and laughing, and generally being Duo for everyone. It had been fun, all in all. Heero had seemed...content, and Duo hadn't wanted to begrudge him the happiness. He hadn't. And he doesn't. All in all. Mostly. It's not an easy job however, requires concentration. So he had needed his alone-time _\--_ to take a break, find some inner peace, gather his resolve, whatever _\--_ and not, most emphatically _not_ , wallow in self-pity. Damn. Too late for that now.  
  
Hell. He's alone, he can indulge a little. Misery sometimes just gets too tired of company.   
  
Besides, he is safely away from everyone.   
  
He should go back soon. Probably. The night weather is agreeable enough _\--_ it's June after all, so lounging on a marble bench outside is a definite pleasure. That the bench is near the gazebo serving as the center point to the Royal Park's labyrinth is an added bonus. No one in their right mind would go wandering in the dark inside its two-meter high hedge-walls at that time.   
  
Even the Preventers on duty are generally satisfied to keep watch from the outside at night. Duo knows where they are, and how they move. He had to, since he specifically made a point _not_ to announce his presence to them coming here. Which, potentially, could turn nasty for him, should they take a sudden notice somehow. He's quite confident however that can't happen without intention on his part.  
  
So far, he is content to stay where he is, marble digging reassuringly into his shoulder blades, arms crossed under his head, knees bent, one leg on the ground, the other propped on the bench's edge. All in all, a fairly comfortable position.   
  
He will go back. Any minute now. He should. Really. It's the last night with all the guests present. Besides, although no one has given any indication that his last evening's disappearance had been noticed, vanishing twice in a row might be stretching his luck. Quatre for one has always been a little weird. Duo more than anything doesn't need to answer well-meaning questions right now. Not when he's found some peace and calm. Well, okay, there might be some things...not quite...festering...inside...but overall Duo is fine. There is no problem with anything. Everyone has seen this today.   
  
Including Heero.   
  
Yup, everything's fine. Just two minutes and he'll go back.   
  
Where everyone is.   
  
Including Zechs.  
  
That man. An enigma. What had possessed him to agree to Duo's half-assed proposition last night? By all means, he should have dismissed the bawdy pick-up line as some sort of a practical joke or something. To actually go through with it...  
  
Duo still doesn't know what he had expected _\--_ acting on impulse again. Or what he'd been looking for. Well, a distraction, obviously. Probably.  
  
It had worked. Quite well at that. It had been something like smashing your toes against a wall when you have a headache. It doesn't make your head stop hurting but it certainly takes your mind off it...  
  
Today the prince had been keeping his distance all day long. Treated him like he always had. As if they had never exchanged two words. Much less bodily fluids.    
  
Which, of course, had been the truth. Until last night.  
  
Yet the encounter had been oddly satisfying. Exhilarating. Liberating even. Not unlike jumping off an upper floor of a high building. With an outcome that could have easily turned out just as messy and painful in the end...  
  
_Damn it._ Duo doesn't know what had happened between him and His Royal Highness last night _\--_ well, apart from the obvious _\--_ or even if anything did. But _fuck_ if he is going to dwell on it further, or spare the bastard any more thoughts while looking at the sky.   
  
He's not _that_ pathetic.  
  
Mood completely ruined by now, he is about to get up and make his _quiet_ way to the palace. Then a noise freezes him on spot.  
  
_Footsteps_.   
  
Not quiet at all. Strong. Confident. Purposeful. Making their way through the labyrinth.  
  
The person coming moves with no hesitation, no pauses at the convoluted turns _\--_ unerringly _\--_ like they fucking own the place _\--_ and...  
  
Well _damn_.   
  
Maybe they really do.  
  
Duo can hear the sound of feet on gravel quite clearly, approaching and moving away from him, as the man - little doubt now - follows the elaborate path leading to the gazebo. Thoughts of weapons-position-cover run almost subconsciously through Duo's mind _\--_ he had familiarized himself with his surroundings, thoroughly, even before lying down _\--_ but it's not like he's being _stalked_. So he stays where he is, watching the dark and only way into the central clearing with barely suppressed ...curiosity? apprehension?... Not that he's not ready to defend himself on a moment's notice. But the wild-haired idea - unfounded guess really - swirling unexpectedly in his mind makes his heartbeat hammer with anticipation.   
  
Besides, he cannot think of a single reason for Zechs Merquise to attack him.  
  
Not after last night at least.  
  
It doesn't take long. The labyrinth - an honest-to-god, veritable pre-colony _labyrinth_ \- is painstakingly recreated after designs of times past. Relena is anything if not thorough once she makes up her mind:  the simple right-hand rule would bring anyone to the center with the little effort it takes to walk the maze's many but short passages.  
  
When his fellow lover of moonlit walks through dark hedges appears at the entrance, Duo's mind has one thought only. He had been right. For the life of him, he can't say why.   
  
And, for the life of him, he cannot imagine what the prince would want with him anymore.   
  
That Merquise has sought him here on purpose is without doubt. How he had known where to look, and, most of all, _why_ , is something Duo cannot fathom.   
  
The prince stops on the verge of the clearing and appears to take in the tall-roofed marble gazebo at the center surrounded by park benches of the same material.   
  
And, inevitably, Duo's prone form displayed on one of them.   
  
The crunch of gravel ceases as his visitor's feet make the transition to uncovered soil. For a moment the man just stands there; his most formal, lavish, Royal-House-of-Sanq attire oddly in place in these pseudo-antiquated surroundings.  
  
Scarce moonlight plating pale hair in liquid silver, eyes hidden in its shade, the prince looks haunting and haunted at the same time.  
  
The sight causes an odd little twist in Duo's heart.  
  
_What ghosts are you running from, Zechs Merquise?_  
  
Duo blinks the unbidden thought away _\--_ what the _hell?_ _\--_ and opens his mouth to speak when the prince beats him to action by taking the half-dozen steps to the only occupied bench in sight.  
  
Which makes Duo suddenly see the drawbacks of his reclining position -feet on the ground but elbows still on the marble - as he really doesn't care for anyone towering over him like that. He's already half-way up when Merquise swiftly changes the balance of power.   
  
By simply kneeling down to the ground.   
  
Between Duo's legs.   
  
Duo is so thrown back by the abrupt gesture - and the gloved palm splayed on his belly _\--_ that he is not only rendered speechless but also easily allows the light pressure to return him to his previous position.  
  
The prince merely regards him for a heartbeat, as if in contemplation. In the meager starlight, Duo can see his eyes, ice-cold as usual, but dark and narrowed now, and the... distaste in them   
  
... _Distaste?_...   
  
Duo is half a moment away from pushing away _\--_ and to hell with Merquise and his weird behavior _\--_ when the other white-gloved hand joins the first on his stomach. In an instant they're already hooked on his belt.  
  
Duo is paralyzed, mind blanking in utter incomprehension. ...Sex?...Merquise sought him for _sex?_  
  
... _Here?!_  
  
No way.  
  
"..Hey!...Wait a minute! What the fuck?..."  
  
He doesn't care if his voice comes out slightly panicked, even if he _is_ whispering - there are Preventers somewhere out there, he doesn't need them barging through the hedges on a scene like _that_ _\--_...! there _are_ Preventers out there, who undoubtedly know where the prince is, and the bastard wants to do this, here? Now?  
  
Merquise doesn't react, doesn't even lift his head from his self-appointed chore as the long fingers continue uninterruptedly and methodically to open Duo's fly. It feels oddly impersonal _\--_ Heero cleans his gun with more passion that that _\--_ and Duo has to stop this, lifts a hand to do so _\--_ but suddenly he doesn't want to, _not really_ , as he stares transfixed at the bowed head, long pale strands of hair inundating his lap and spilling all over his thighs towards the ground. Shiver races through Duo, desire flaring sharply in his belly at the sight; so strong and potent, it makes him dizzy _\--_ that's a frickin' _prince_ kneeling between his legs!...and he's going to... _\--_ when Merquise takes him in his mouth.   
  
With an effort he never knew he was capable of, Duo manages to suppress any sound from leaving his throat _\--_ just barely _\--_ as the _heat_... and _wet_...and _sucking_...and oh god, _twirling_ _\--_ turn his insides, his whole body, into quivering mush. He is vaguely grateful to the support of the bench as his knees seem inordinately affected.  
  
After some impossible moments spent in dealing with the initial shock, Duo gathers some wits enough to watch. The willpower required to stop the proceedings being presently _sucked_ right _out_ of him, there's precious little for him left to do, and the _visual_...the visual is not something he would likely ever forget.   
  
Curiously, nor does he want to.   
  
Merquise is... _efficient_. No other word for it. He doesn't show any hesitation in the task at hand _\--_ Duo is not surprised somehow _\--_ and there is no trace of teasing in his actions. He appears completely focused on bringing Duo off, and soon, although he doesn't make any noticeable haste out of it either. The action seems cold and removed, in perfect contrast to the sensations coming from his cock _\--_ and Duo has to stifle a sob, though he can't say which of the two feelings - or maybe both - affects him so. It's pure pleasure _\--_ undeniable, inevitable, and it's _building_ \- yet he wants it over. He would like to see the prince's face, and eyes _\--_ and at the same time is relieved that he cannot. So he stares at the movement of the blond head instead, up and down, driving, intensifying, _urging_ his pleasure with every _up_ and every _down_ , and cannot take his eyes off the flowing silver strands. So long, they seem bound to sweep the dust but somehow never quite reach it, hovering just above the ground instead.   
  
It's disturbing for some reason. Duo's not sure whether he'd like to completely force the perfect tresses down to the dirt or reach over and save them from such an unseemly fate...  
  
Then the prince does _something_ _\--_ with his tongue, or lips _\--_ it has been all mouth all the way, no hands - and Duo's utterly helpless to stop his strange wayward thoughts from scattering inconsequentially in all directions before converging with a vengeance into one single blinding _need_ _\--_ to thrust, to get _deeper_ , to get _more!_ His hands must have found purchase on the sides of the bench, as his fingers are currently trying to embed themselves into the marble, while his hips begin to surge upward _\--_ or attempt to, since Merquise effortlessly holds him down, gloved palms pressing on Duo's thighs. But the whole exercise has one goal and one goal only _\--_ on which they both agree for once _\--_ and the tip of the tongue _\--_ or the _swirl_ _\--_ or the wet movement of the lips _just there_ _\--_ tips him over. Orgasm hits him hard; his head hits the marble, and he's seeing fireworks.   
  
When the colorful lights dancing in his vision do not disappear even after the prince has stopped swallowing, Duo is forced to realize that he _is_ seeing fireworks.   
  
As the loud _bang_ -bang _bang_ that has taken over the quiet sounds of a forest at nighttime attests,  once his heartbeat has quieted down enough to allow him to actually hear it. He remembers vaguely reading about that in some program of the evening events or another...  
  
And he can't help but smile. Because _now_ , that precise moment _\--_ is the first time he feels peace. Not just peace _\--_ but _peace_. A year and a half after the end of the war, six months after the Mariemaia Incident, and just _now_ Duo can say he knows what peace _feels_ like _\--_ it's _this_ , this moment, under the open sky alight with exuberant colors, afterglow tingling through his veins. It's buoyant, and happy, and exhilarating...an euphoric feeling he knows - but it's also calm and carefree unlike any battle he's ever been in; and Duo revels in it, untroubled and happy for the first time in a very long time. He watches the flowers of light _\--_ not explosions, not beam cannons, not bombs _\--_ bloom in the sky above; tries to remember that feeling, to absorb it in his body and mind because precious things like that are rare, and don't last. And if Heero were here, they could remember it together -  
  
_God help me._  
  
He has to close his eyes, heart beating suddenly so hard it hurts.  
  
How _long?_ How _fucking_ long will this go on?   
  
Enough of that. He ought to go back, not watch some stupid light show. Right. And Merquise can go to hell.  
  
He starts at the thought, eyes flying open in stunned realization. He's out of his mind. Utterly and completely mad. Forgetting his enemy is close by...  
  
If it were the war, he would be dead by now.  
  
Then again, if it were the war, said enemy wouldn't have appeared out of the blue just to give him a blowjob.   
  
As it is, the prince is no longer crouching but standing, tall and towering _\--_ _dangerous_ \- still between Duo's legs. He's too close for comfort, and it suddenly makes Duo feel absurdly defenseless.   
  
Merquise is not watching the soon-to-be-over fireworks but Duo instead. The thought that the arrogant bastard has been doing _that_ since the light show started makes him distinctly uncomfortable.   
  
As does his present position.   
  
Flushing with embarrassment, he belatedly realizes exactly what Merquise is seeing _\--_ Duo's body, sprawled indecently on the bench, ridiculously formal clothes in partial disarray, fly undone, and...yes, _exposed_ , if the cool air he can feel _there_ is anything to go by.   
  
And while there has been ... _something_... in the prince's _expression just now, currently his features are unreadable, as cold and closed off as always. His stance however gives off an air of haughty disapproval, and the look he's giving Duo is...annoyed?...angry? ...As if _all this_ is somehow Duo's fault.   
  
Whatever `all this' is.  
  
Maybe he's mad he didn't get any. Heh.   
  
Duo has no intention to reciprocate anything. It's not like he had _wanted_ to be sucked off. The bastard hadn't even asked, so no debt owed there.   
  
With a glare he urges the prince to step back, and when he doesn't, Duo moves to sit up anyway, hands dropping to close his fly at the same time.  
  
"Don't."   
  
Low and commanding; there is no mistaking that cool tone. It sends Duo's pulse racing.  
  
Order or not, Duo is so surprised to hear the silent son of a bitch actually say something, his fingers hesitate in their task.   
  
In the next moment it doesn't really matter, as Merquise presses him back to the bench _yet again_ , palm on his chest. _What_ now?  
  
His annoyance quickly transmutes into shock when the elegant hands move to his waist _\--_ to his still undone pants _\--_ and unceremoniously start tugging the material, underwear and all, down.  
  
... _Wha_...? Nononono _no_. No fucking way. They are _not_ doing _this_ here, he is _not_ going to be fucked out in the open _\--_ he might not have discovered his kinks yet but he's absolutely sure exhibitionism is not one of them, and the possibility of being discovered during sex, by Preventer security detail no less, fills him with nothing but dread... _dammit_ , that's beside the point!... They are _done_. His careless words yesterday had been a one-time offer, not a standing invitation. And if the royal bastard is horny he can go fuck himself, or go find himself a stable boy, or do whatever other depravity aristocrats tend to indulge in when the mood strikes...  
  
But Duo cannot close his legs _\--_ there's a hard body between them _\--_ and instead makes a grab for his pants, or at least underwear, but is not fast enough as they are almost over his hips now. The son of a bitch has the upper hand, as it were, and with a sharp tug Duo can feel the material slide down _from under him_ all the way to his ankles, ridiculously easy.   
  
He is shivering - the night air is cool after all _\--_ but does not protest further when the prince proceeds to take off his right shoe. Just that one.   
  
It will be enough.  
  
Duo swallows convulsively.  
  
He's not given the time to contemplate what's wrong with him to allow all this _\--_ being manhandled like that _\--_ as he is manhandled further. Familiarly strong arms take hold of his hips and _flip_ him  over, his upper body twisting quite on its own to follow his legs. His already hardening cock _\--_ _why now?_ \- briefly touches the marble before Merquise lifts him by the waist until Duo's hands and knees gather instinctively beneath him. Then he's deposited in this new _\--_ _convenient_ \- position.   
  
The situation is beyond surreal.  
  
The prince fully intends to do this. Right here. Right now. On a bench, in a park. How can this be happening? Why?   
  
The game ended yesterday, didn't it? What's this then?  
  
And why is he going on with it?   
  
He is instantly distracted from his thoughts as clothed hands come to rest on his ass. A finger _\--_ coarse and dry - brushes his entrance, and the sensation makes him hang his head, his braid a dark rope dangling in his side vision.  
  
The fucking bastard. He still has those formal gloves on.  
  
The next command is not more than a quiet breath.  
  
"Spread."   
  
And just like that, Duo does; knees sliding away until they reach the edges of the surface, erection _\--_ _swelling_ \- swaying with the movement, nerve endings catching fire. When did he become so good at taking orders?  
  
Apparently he _is_ that pathetic.   
  
He knows he should be afraid _\--_ had been, yesterday, and that's when he had thought himself in control. Not anymore. If Merquise wants to hurt him, he will.   
  
Judging by that last _expression Duo caught earlier, he probably does.   
  
So what the hell anyway.  
  
Pain like that he can deal with.   
  
And it's already out of his hands now.  
  
For a moment there is no contact between him and the man behind him. Duo stares it away, keeping his eyes on the pale marble before him. It's not like he can see much more even if he wanted to. The fireworks are over. Once again only starlight breaks the darkness.  
  
It's a pity, that he can't see the stars, the way he is now.  
  
His momentary reverie is broken when a gloved hand steadies his hip, while fingers _\--_ two, naked now, cool and slick _\--_ first touch,then push into him. Duo manages to stay quiet, just barely, because it _hurts_ _\--_ if anything, the touch is _less_ not-careful now than it was yesterday but he is sore _\--_ and his eyes begin to tear up. When the fingers start moving, all he can do is grit his teeth. He doesn't believe the prince is hurting him on purpose, not _really_ _\--_ the bastard wouldn't have bothered with _preliminaries_ otherwise -but there is no room for him to spread his legs any further, and relaxing his muscles with that stinging soreness proves quite unfeasible. He can only hope it somehow gets better, though now that seems impossible.   
  
When the fingers are removed, Duo can't help a gasp of relief _\--_ all the sweeter, in light of what is about to replace them. He can see _it_ in his mind's eye and shudders remembering the size _\--_ he can already _feel_ the blunt tip _\--_ _dammit_ , can't the son of a bitch give him a fucking second _\--_ but there is no waiting, no asking, no hesitation this time - the whole thing just enters him in one swift thrust - and there is no suppressing the sobs now. He's burying them in his shoulder, biting, until he's able to breathe at least a bit less noisily.   
  
_Now_ the bastard stills, though Duo is fairly certain it's not for his sake.  
  
Nonetheless, he is grateful for the not-quite respite _\--_ at least he can catch his breath _\--_ but he's still impaled, and quivering,and the impossible feeling of being stretched and filled over his limit, though now familiar, is still as _too fucking much_ as it was yesterday. And the tip, pressed _there_ \- promising oblivion - hot, leaking heat, taking over, making its way through his body, hijacking his mind off pain, real or imagined... Duo can see it now, how it will get better. Soon.  
  
_Soon_ comes in a heartbeat. The prince drives into him _\--_ and all coherent thought out of him _\--_ as the real fucking starts.   
  
Somehow, the bench proves to be just the right height to allow him to do this standing. The clean, long, powerful thrusts hold such force Duo would undoubtedly topple over the edge if not for Merquise's unyielding grip on his waist _\--_ clothed fingers digging into his left side, cool flesh ones into his right, while some disjointed part of Duo's mind catalogues the dissimilar sensations. The hands clasping his middle under the loosely hanging shirt are moving him forward and back, forward and back, in a counter-rhythm against the prince's hips, and although this hold is his only _\--_ _external_ \- contact between Duo and the man fucking him, it still feels wonderful. He's losing any sense of time and grip on reality, fast, with every choked breath and every thrust shaking, rocking, _wrecking_ his body - for that one moment he is _owned_ \- possessed, taken _\--_ _needed?_ _\--_ willed by another _\--_ moved by another - he's not his own, not himself; there's nothing else, no one else, no games, just this, just this, this ... _pleasure_...and it's quite odd that he can feel wetness trailing down his face -    
_  
It's not like anyone will see._  
  
...but then a hand _\--_ the _gloved_ one _\--_ grasps his cock, stroking, and it's suddenly so _agonizingly_ intense, Duo's arms give out, elbows hitting the marble hard, nose escaping the same prosaic fate by a mere accident, although he manages to smack his forehead on the surface somewhat. It's certainly a jolt _\--_ but he currently doesn't care, _cannot_ care as the new angle gives the _fucking_ a whole new _tangible_ meaning, and all of a sudden, staying silent is no longer an option. He's biting again - his wrist now - would probably bite the marble if he could - but it's all useless, as gasps _\--_ _sobs?_ -half-moans escape him unchecked. He has already surrendered -himself, his body _\--_ what more is his pride? It doesn't matter anymore. He's been such a fool to think it ever did... But a thrust, and a _squeeze_ , and sudden liquid _warmth_ _\--_ pulsing, _inside_ -blank his mind into a second orgasm that night, and for some countless moments the world consists only of frantic breaths, loud heartbeat and darkness.  
  
When he can hear again, it's the quiet whisper of a zipper being pulled up, and he wishes the darkness had stayed longer.  
  
There's a short, barely audible, rustle of clothes being straightened behind him, and Duo _knows_ what he'll see if he turns around _\--_ the prince of Sanq, impossibly unflustered and proper, not a moon-bleached hair out of place. Cold. Perfect.   
  
So he doesn't.   
  
And there is neither uncertainty, nor hesitation in Merquise's steps when he leaves without a word.  
  
Duo wishes he could be angry.   
  
As the crunch-crunch of feet on gravel recedes and deceptively approaches in turns _\--_ disappearing - he drops down completely, stretching on his belly, tired, unmindful of the mess he'd made, dimly taking notice of aching elbows and sore knees _\--_ marble is a damn hard surface to be fucked on, that's for sure. His forehead is throbbing too, now that he's paying attention, and he can only hope his teeth hadn't done much damage where he'd sunk them carelessly into his arm. His pants are still attached to his left foot, bunched at the ankle really, where the shoe prevents them from slipping completely off, but Duo can't muster enough concern to care what shape they're in after being half-dragged in the dust beside the bench.   
  
The thought of Preventers discovering him here like that _\--_ bare-assed under the moonlight, drying semen on his thighs - somehow also fails to produce the expected worry anymore. As does his _non_ -problem with Heero. He's numb _\--_ the marble is cold _\--_ and Heero, caring for Heero, suddenly seems so far away right now, some other lifetime, in light of his more recent, and still quite palpable, problem with Zechs Merquise.   
  
And it doesn't feel like a game anymore.  
  
Duo cannot think anything about that now.   
  
And he still has to go back. _Really_ , this time. It's not like he _has_ to see anyone tonight _\--_ it's probably too late for that anyway so he can slip into his room and make excuses come morning - when something in his peripheral vision catches his attention. The movement of his head makes it twitch in turn and he can see it now -his braid _\--_ coiled like some useless piece of rope, discarded and unraveling in the dust.  
  
+  
  
When he finally makes his way to the palace, it's almost morning.  
  
Because he had not just smashed his toes against a wall, he had chopped them right off.   
  
And it hurts too damn much.


	3. Third Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Cinderzol  
> \--   
> Zechs doesn't need to be offered, again. Duo has had enough of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

_Milk, cold and white. How befitting._  
  
It's morning, and what a wonderful morning it is. Day, actually, as it's almost noon already. It's bright, with light streaming through the open French windows and warm breeze ruffling the floor-length curtains. The sun is shining - birds are chirping! _\--_ and everyone's mood seems appropriately elevated. What a wonderful morning indeed. Duo only wishes he was less sleepy, somehow managing to cover another yawn.  
  
But that's what you get when you catch only a few hours of sleep. It's surprising that this - the yawning _\--_ is the only indication of a night umm... not well spent. He had expected a lot more unpleasantness, but instead it's like waking up from a bad dream. Which you don't, and don't want to, remember.  
  
The whole thing last night had been totally unreal. It seems even more so now, in the light and brightness of the day. When Duo's thoughts stray to the night's happenings, it's only _cold-dark-despair_ he remembers - just like the sensations left by a fading nightmare. It's not what happened that's somewhat vivid in your mind, it's how it felt. Hm.  
  
Not that he's pretending it never happened, no. Zechs fucked him. Simple as that. Nothing overly dramatic. He must have felt shitty to begin with, to let something like that get to him. The way it did. Well, that was last night. All in the past now. Not happening again. No, _really_.  
  
And that's one of his private reasons to feel happy right now _\--_ it's _over_.  
  
And indeed, looking at the prince calmly buttering a toast across the table, it is difficult to believe something like that ever happened. Much less to imagine a repeat.  
  
That 'everybody in good mood' thing? Only a guess in the blond bastard's case.  
  
Eyes only on the task at hand, Zechs is in a world of his own. Face blank and expressionless, he's focusing on his food. Silent, ignoring the excited banter around him. Not that anyone appears to be noticing.  
  
Maybe it has always been like that, muses Duo. Ignored and ignoring. He can't say. He had never paid any attention either.  
  
It's next to impossible to connect this man with the one from the night. _MPD?_ Hell, it's less funny and more chilling than it ought to be.  
  
Right now they are having _brunch_ \- that's what you have when you wake up late and your first meal of the day is way past breakfast time. Hn. _If_ it's a three-meals-a-day deal...Duo is used to eating _breakfast_ no matter the time he would wake, but hey, it's all relative. And when in Rome...So brunch it is.  
  
They are really only the more _essential_ people left, for this one last day. Saved specifically for them. To spend together, without the official crowd. Duo is avidly looking forward to it. So far, they haven't had the time to just kick back and relax, informally, just their little group, so spending some time with his friends is something well worth looking forward to. Duo has big expectations for the day. Fully intends to enjoy it.  
  
Besides, it's good bye, tuxes and other funny clothes and hello, jeans and tees, kind of day. Amen to that.  
  
Une has left early in the morning, he'd heard, to take care of some business regarding Mariemaia or other. Where Dorothy is it's unclear as of now. Still sleeping, most likely _\--_ but _this_ is quite nice too, so no need to be jealous.  
  
Sally is sitting at the head of the table _\--_ in what Relena calls 'the small dining room' (it sits at least sixteen) _\--_ and is currently engaged in a loud and apparently quite amusing discussion of something that has happened last evening. She and Noin and Relena, on her right and across from Duo, are talking over each other in their excitement _\--_ girls! _\--_ while Wufei and Quatre on Sally's left are somehow managing to keep up with them, to the effect of general hilarity reigning over the table. Even Heero is smiling _openly_ next to the princess, and Duo is probably the only one who can hear Trowa snickering into his coffee as he's sitting right by. Yes, _snickering_.  
  
This of course leaves His Highness, the wallflower apparent, who would probably look disapproving, _if only_ he had an expression. He must have joined the party right before Duo did _\--_ Duo himself had been the last to come down _\--_ as he and the prince make the ends of the group at the table. Duo had had no choice _\--_ it was only natural to take the seat next to Trowa - there were less people sitting on his side of the table; but why had Zechs _chosen_ to sit next to Heero? Now Duo has to look at both of them, peacefully sharing breakfast- ugh, _brunch_ and...it doesn't look _unnatural_ ... And who would- who _could_ have thought, a year or so back?  
  
It's so... _amazing_ , Duo can't sustain even a smidgeon of grumpiness.  
  
Besides, there's the milk.  
  
As far as Duo can see, everyone is drinking coffee - judging by the thimbles that pass for coffee cups around these parts of the world. Everyone except Duo that is, whose drink of choice is freshly squeezed orange juice _\--_ he figured coffee is an acquired taste, and he has yet to acquire his. The stuff is bitter _dammit_ , and putting extravagant amounts of sugar in it only makes the bitterness nauseatingly, toothachingly sweet-  
  
But he's not the only exception, as Zechs is drinking milk _\--_ yes, _milk!_ \- for crying out loud.  
  
The prince is drinking it from a large mug, with perfectly straight sides, so every time he takes a sip, a small drop of white liquid gathers at the place which his lips have barely left and, undrunk, starts sliding down.  
  
And every time, the prince would distractedly pick up the mug again, bring it to his mouth, and brush his lower lip to the porcelain just _so_ _\--_ a mere touch - to catch the errant droplet immediately after its conception.  
  
_Fascinating_.  
  
Zechs appears unconscious of the whole process, and Duo is just about unconscious of watching it. Repeat again and again.  
  
Not that he's _watching it_ watching it, no _\--_ but it's...it's right in front of his eyes; it would be difficult _not_ to watch. Really.  
  
And it's not like that's _all_ he's doing _\--_ he's also keeping a lazy ear on the conversation for one. Well, if not on the substance (he's too sleepy to actually follow), at least on the flow and intonation of the _\--_ frequently simultaneous - speakers. And he has to make sure all the strawberry jam stays on his waffle ('that's a Danish version of a Belgian waffle a la Sanq, Duo, a local specialty') and that it doesn't migrate to his palm and fingers...  
  
Oh, the worries he has these days... But even his internal voice sounds more pleased than cynical this morning, and he knows he's smiling.  
  
"Oh, by the way, where were you last night, Duo? Heero was looking for you; he wanted to watch the fireworks together..."  
  
Apparently Duo is very good at multitasking even when half-asleep, since he catches Relena's question right away _and_ manages not to choke on orange juice at the same time. Then calmly proceeds to leave the dangerous objects _\--_ waffle, glass - on the table, before turning to the princess.  
  
"Huh?" Innocence full on. Panic mode on stand-by.  
  
Relena kindly repeats herself while the table has gone quiet _\--_ and that's what you get for being complacent enough to think that if nobody asked this at first appearance, they never will. Blame it on the lack of sleep-  
  
...Wait, wait. _Heero_ had wanted to watch the fireworks with _him?_...  
  
...And it's the princess who's telling him this?  
  
Her face is open and earnest, and once again he can see why she is the leader of the known world.  
  
She must know. What Heero and Duo had been to each other. Done together. If he knows his man _\--_ and for things like these, he does _\--_ Heero _must_ have told her, she _must_ know, yet there's nothing but sincerity in her. No doubts, no second thoughts.  
  
No jealousy.  
  
_No wonder Heero chose her._ Duo is vaguely surprised to find himself more understanding than bitter at the thought.  
  
"Yes, Duo, where _were_ you? You disappeared the night before too," Quatre adds almost instantly, leaning forward on the table, trying to look at Duo over Trowa, who obligingly leans back in his chair.  
_  
Thank you, buddy. Yeah, thanks for bringing_ that _up._  
  
"I went to bed early."  
  
Well, he did. To a canopied one.  
  
"Two nights in a row? You?" Wufei's voice is raised in disbelief, as he too leans forward. Just disbelief though, not suspicion. They all know he tells the truth. Curse the habit.  
  
"No. _Last_ night I was outside, watching the fireworks."  
  
"We were all _outside_ , Maxwell, that's how one enjoys fireworks."  
  
_Ass_ , thinks Duo good-naturedly, while some part of him is wondering just how much truth-telling it will take to get them to 'I fucked Zechs Merquise on a park bench'.  
  
Ugh...More or less.  
  
"I _meant_ I was outside _in the park_ , rather away from the palace and you guys."  
  
"You went wondering in the park? Alone? Oh, Duo..." There's something... too akin to pity in the princess's eyes now and it does wonders for Duo's goodwill towards her. Of the evaporating kind.  
  
...Ah shit. We're _there_ already.  
  
Duo takes a deep breath, preparing for the penultimate confession that no, in fact he had not been alone.  
  
Though he'd rather be somewhere else when they reach the ultimate one.  
  
"I wasn't-"  
  
"He was with me."  
  
Cool, cultured, unhurried.  
  
Duo forgets to breathe.  
  
The world halts.  
  
This did not just happen. Zechs did not just... But judging by how everyone's attention has shifted instantaneously from Duo to the prince, apparently he did. While the bastard is actually calmly _peeling an orange_. Seemingly unaware of the sudden - expectant - silence around him.  
  
Oh, shit, shit, shit. Do they have to hear it from _him?_ Isn't there a way Duo could just... slide down under the table or something, anything - not to see Heero's face when Merquise reveals the whole extent of Duo's wretchedness for them all to see?  
  
But _why?_ Is this what the prince had been after these past few days? Duo's abject humiliation in front of his friends?  
  
"You weren't...fighting, were you?" asks Sally, voice stern with disapproval. Noin and Relena look justifiably worried. Though had Dorothy been here, the question would have sounded differently. Heh. It looks like Duo's thought processes have derailed completely, if such thoughts come to mind.  
  
The prince seems surprised _\--_ enough, to stop his work on the orange and look up.  
  
"No. Why would we?" Ah, but would that have been preferable. Pity. "I was showing him the labyrinth."  
  
.. _. Huh?_ Fuck! If you're going to lie, at least do it _properly!_  
  
"In the dark?" Trowa raises an eyebrow. As far as Duo can see, Trowa's skepticism is reflected all around. Well, this is so lame, he can hardly blame them.  
  
Zechs's eyes are clear and steady however.  
  
"Yes. There was enough light to see." The essentials, adds Duo's inner voice gleefully, while the prince looks around vaguely puzzled. Oh, _please_.  
  
"...What reason do we have to fight? We are all friends now. The war is over. Right?"  
  
The unwavering ice-blue eyes are on Duo now, and there might or might not be amusement in them. _The bastard_ , seethes Duo, but feels compelled to nod. "Right."  
  
That is, the war _is_ over.  
  
But Heero is taking too much interest, watching them both in turn with an odd expression, so, panicking, Duo blurts the first thing that comes to mind.  
  
"You wanted to watch the fireworks together, Heero? If I knew you were looking for me I would have stayed with you."  
  
...Umm, it ain't a lie when you're not sure about it yourself, right?  
  
He can feel Zechs staring but doesn't spare a glance. Heero is important.  
  
"I was worried," admits Heero simply. "And I knew you would like them. Plus, since everyone is leaving tomorrow..." He shrugs the rest off and suddenly, right out of the blue, Duo wants to kiss him. No, not like _that_ _\--_ odd _\--_ but just for the... sheer warmth and _relief_ that fills him at these words.  
  
Heero cares.  
  
_Still friends._  
  
"Then, let's do something fun together today!... Maybe we can shoot some hoops? What else? Princess?..."  
  
He's smiling as he looks at Relena but makes the question all-inclusive, so this thankfully shifts the conversation to the topic of what they can all do together in their last day here. There is a fully equipped sports complex on the palace grounds and they've all been waiting for a chance to sample the facilities. When they start discussing the numerous - and quite enticing _\--_ options, Duo can finally relax.  
  
Phew.  
  
A close shave, that.  
  
Not that it's anyone's _\--_ not even Heero's - business who he decides to sleep with. Still, he would prefer to keep the exact nature of his... _involvement_ with Zechs Merquise private.  
  
Or better yet, to forget about it. Entirely.  
  
After all, there's no obligation to announce his momentary lack of common sense to the whole world. Especially when it's over.  
  
And he will most definitely enjoy this day. Relena has already taken the matter in her hands _\--_ she's the host after all - and is currently attempting to bring some order to the various suggestions.  
  
"...and the pool for later. But what about tennis? I love tennis, and Miss Noin does too, so-"  
  
"You have a tennis court?" interrupts Sally eagerly. "How come I never noticed?"  
  
"Must be because you never bothered to check the park grounds, unlike some of us." Wufei, of course, voice smug. "It's right next to the rose garden."  
  
"And where might that be?" Sally asks obligingly, smiling sweetly at him, but it's Relena who answers.  
  
"Oh, it is located at the north-west end of the grounds _\--_ it is rather away from the main building but they assured me the ground there was most suitable for the roses. I'm building it from scratch, so it wasn't ready for the celebrations _\--_ it is still closed for the public but it's turning fabulous... Actually, I know _\--_ if someone is interested..." She pauses and her excited gaze finds Duo. "Duo, since Brother has been showing you around the park..." _\--_ huh? how did she figure that? _\--_ "...maybe he can show it to you later? Brother, you've been to the rose garden, right?" She doesn't wait for an answer but continues, "The roses come from all over the world and most are in full bloom now and..."  
  
Two things happen at that moment. First, Duo can see Noin shaking her head _no_ at Relena, who doesn't take notice, busy extolling her roses and-  
  
A loud intake of breath interrupts her and all eyes turn instantly to the prince, again _\--_ to find him with a mostly empty carafe of milk in one hand and its previous contents over the other. There is milk dripping from his fingers, and milk seeping quickly into the fabric of his dark grey tee-shirt, turning the part of his sleeve closest to his wrist first white, then dark, and darker.  
  
Zechs puts the carafe down and pushing his chair back, stands up, as calm as ever.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
Then, without another word and not looking at anyone, leaves the room.  
  
_What was that about?_  
  
Well, food accidents do happen. Apparently everyone decides so too _\--_ along with a somewhat confused Relena - because with a shrug, they're back to discussing what to do first. After all, that's not an atypical behavior for the brooding prince, from what Duo has seen. Even if Noin looks somewhat unsettled.  
  
The girls easily win _\--_ Relena is a formidable opponent by herself; put Sally next to her, and whatever cause you're defending is lost _\--_ so tennis it is. Basketball will have to wait. It's okay though. Duo has never even seen a racket up close, much less held one, so it should prove quite interesting.  
  
Relena assures them everything they would need is provided for, so deciding they've wasted enough time, the group leaves right through the French windows. Though why would one call a window an opening that's used to get in and out of a room and that reaches the floor he'll never know.  
  
Outside it's even better. It's nice and hot without being _too_ hot, and the air smells in the most un-L2 kind of smell one can possibly imagine. Yup, _that_ good.  
  
Life is good on Earth.  
_  
If only they_ could see him now...  
  
Relena takes the lead but less then three hundred feet form the main building Duo suddenly needs to go back. Uh. Too much orange juice it seems...  
  
"Guys, I'll be right back. No, don't wait for me, I'll find you once I change the water of the fishies."  
  
And with a wink at Relena's confusion he sprints back to the palace, Trowa's unflustered voice carrying after him "Duo has to pee, Relena" along with her uncertain "...But why _fish?_ "  
  
For exigency purposes, Duo traces his way back - right through the glass doors, out through the regular door, in the corridor. Yes, there, a short distance to the right, there's a restroom Duo has used sometime before. It's the closest one to the dining room, so Duo dives right in. And promptly forgets all about fishies.  
  
His day has just taken an abrupt turn for the worse.  
  
+  
  
The restroom is a small affair _\--_ two stalls, two sinks... Elegant pale blue marble and gold all around.  
  
And a tall figure, slightly leaning forward, partly supported on hands on both sides of the left sink. Head bent, blond strands slipping over back and shoulders, reaching the marble.  
  
Of all the seemingly infinite number of toilets in the palace. And _he_ had to choose this one. Oh, the irony.  
  
The door closes behind Duo with a click and the finality of...well, any closing door really. Though it's ridiculous, considering there is nothing preventing him from turning around and leaving.  
  
_Yet._  
  
It's also very, very weird. Although this being a trap seems like a logical impossibility.  
  
The prince doesn't move or look up. As if he hadn't noticed Duo's intrusion at all. An illusion, that. The perfect straight hair is a curtain around him, cutting the rest of the world off. It isn't a sight of dejection entirely...though not entirely _not_ either.  
  
So, some instinctual jitters aside, Duo's first thought is "Are you alright?"  
  
Which, in retrospect, does not seem the smartest reaction.  
  
Because, considering his history with the man, a) Duo should have been more worried about himself; b) even if something is wrong, it likely is Zechs's fault anyway; and c) he probably deserves it too.  
  
A moment passes, and the prince looks up. Now Duo can see his face _\--_ meet his _eyes_ \- in the mirror, and what he sees there makes his mind go in a fracture of a second from surprise, past disbelief, straight to _Are you fuckin' kidding me?_... But he's a Gundam pilot. He will most assuredly _not_ take a step back. Nor turn tail. Despite the single-minded _intensity_ with which the prince is regarding _\--_ devouring - him through the mirror.  
  
And some part of Duo is already calculating the probability of being fucked right here, right now. In the men's restroom.  
  
It is sufficiently high.  
  
Approaching inevitability, by the look of things.  
  
Duo can suddenly feel his heart in his throat.  
  
_Why am I still here?_  
  
...  
  
_And why is he always angry when he wants me?_  
  
Not that the prince wants _him_ him, what he wants is just-  
  
But Duo's hesitation takes a heartbeat too long as it takes Zechs less that that to turn swiftly and _bear into_ him, pinning him _\--_ hands to shoulders _\--_ against the door behind. It's a hard shove _\--_ Duo's head bangs against the heavy wood and he's seeing white spots.  
  
When his vision clears in a bit, Duo decides that turning tail would have been a Good Idea. Very.  
  
Too late now.  
  
But his reaction is instinctual _\--_ hands lifting, pushing up those holding him pinned _\--_ he succeeds in dislodging them but the prince had been ready too, as he easily reverses the hold and shoves Duo's now-captured wrists against the door, on both sides of his head, and slightly up, and Duo receives a cold glare for his efforts. This time the bastard is gripping so hard, Duo can feel his _own_ pulse beating frantically under Zechs's fingers.  
  
But this is not going anywhere - or rather going fast in a direction dangerous on too many levels to contemplate, so Duo, stilling, decides to appeal to reason. What? It works for Relena.  
  
More or less.  
  
He foregoes _There are people right outside!_ and _It's the middle of the day!_ and _Someone might come in!_ and _Are you on drugs?_ in favor of an even "They're expecting me back...and you too for the matter," and is pleased to see that the situation paused as is. "What are you going to tell them this time, that you were _showing_ me the lavatories?"  
  
Zechs smirks at that, and it's as superior and infuriating as ever.  
  
"Why, I can always tell them the truth for a change."  
  
The smug look in the cold blue eyes leaves no doubts what sort of 'truth' the asshole is referring to. So it's decided, eh?  
  
"And why would I care?"  
  
"Yes, why _do_ you?"  
  
Is this _blackmail?_ Screw fighting fairly. It has never brought him any good anyway.  
  
"Or maybe instead you could really _show_ me the _rose garden?_ " he counters sweetly. He's shooting in the dark but hey, he's got a good feeling abut this. "Surely there's a bench or two there too? And since the roses are in full bloom..." He forgets the rest as Zechs's eyes widen for a moment, darkening - then they are narrowed _\--_ _danger!_ \- Duo has crossed some line - and Zechs is bending over him, shadowing the light, long bangs falling over his face- and Duo's face-...and for a second Duo thinks he will be kissed, brutally, as punishment; closes his eyes -  
  
...but Zechs's mouth just _hovers_ _\--_ _almost_ there but not quite...a breath away over his...then continues past...and lower...  
  
But for one terrible, horrible moment of self-betrayal, Duo had _wanted_ that mouth on his. Wanted _that_.  
  
_So. Bad._  
  
...Oh god.  
  
He starts shaking.  
  
Then Zechs's breath is on his neck, on his throat, and Duo is shaking for whole another reason. When teeth graze his skin he has to swallow convulsively; head falling back, body sagging against the door...and when lips _\--_ _that_ lip _\--_ follow, Duo's mouth goes completely dry, having fallen open in the process. He's breathing shallowly through it _\--_ rapidly but noiselessly; heart beating hard and fast and loud in his ears.  
  
He cannot decide whether he should run, or wait it out.  
  
_It_ , being more than clear ever since he entered the room and failed to promptly run away. Especially after last night. Because let's face it, the only thing left uncertain by this point is whether it's gonna be braced against one of the sinks, bent over a toilet seat, or pushed up against the wall.  
  
But the solid warmth of the body so close, _almost_ against his is distracting, scattering, confusing him...And the choice is not his, is it, so he better stay...  
  
Then Zechs's tongue swirls over his ear and Duo's eyes roll back in his head and his knees buckle and he's dazed and dizzy and drowning but there are words _\--_ _no_ , no words is better _\--_ except that the prince is relentless, and says them anyways - " _On. Your. Knees._ "  
  
And they cut - right through the fuzziness. The voice is soft and rich with malice, and cold enough that Duo's world abruptly stops spinning and rights itself up.  
  
What it does to his arousal is not so unambiguous.  
  
And it's not possible to call it a request.  
  
So it's going to be _that_ , thinks Duo bitterly, already sliding down the wall, helped along by Merquise's hands on his shoulders.  
  
Right. It's good that the prince never fails to remind him there's no affection lost between them. Lest he forgets. Perish the thought.  
  
And to think he had felt a moment's worry for the son of a bitch, seeing him like _that_ , _crying over spilt milk_. Literally.  
  
He kneels ungracefully and has to let go the support of the polished wood at his back in favor of balance. He can't even sit down on his heels, not with Merquise's legs _that_ long. After all, he's not _there_ for the bastard's _kneecaps_. Heh.  
  
He doesn't know whether he hates Zechs or himself more for doing this. He can't quite wrap his head around what he's doing at all.  
  
Then he's up close and personal with Zechs's denim-covered crotch. Watching in fascination the elegant fingers unzip and pull out the _offering_. Duo snorts, even as his eyes widen at the sight.  
  
Well. That explains the lingering soreness.  
  
Because he has seen it, yes, but not in such _detail_ , and what a sight it is. Long, and thick, and heavy, and almost too dark against the paleness of the surrounding hairs. _Hard_.  
  
As are the tiles under his knees. Why does it always have to be marble?  
  
Duo does not lick his lips. Nor does he open his mouth. Tilting his head up, and up...and up _\--_ not easy, considering the door at his back and the cock _not entirely_ in his face _\--_ he meets Merquise's level gaze with a mutinous one of his own.  
  
It's easy to anticipate the next command. Let the bastard say it.  
  
But far be it that his Royal Highness utters something crude and unrefined. Somehow managing to look neither annoyed nor impatient despite the glaring _\--_ _weeping_ \- evidence to the contrary less than an inch from Duo's lips _\--_ oh, how he _longs_ to wipe off that expression!-  
  
And all Zechs does is lift an eyebrow.  
  
Hah. Duo _could_ keep this up. Easily. Looking childish be damned.  
  
...  
  
Oh well.  
  
After all, there's only one thing to do the way he is. And maybe he can do it fast enough that no one will notice that he is- _damn!_ \- _they are_ _\--_ missing, _again_.  
  
It's not like they don't suspect something already anyway.  
  
Duo takes a deep breath - and the scent he takes with it makes his groin tighten with instant heat, coiling deep in his belly, then spreading all over his skin, arms and legs and body, like sickness. And he opens his mouth, his lips barely managing to cover his teeth and Merquise is already nearly _plunging_ inside, hips carrying enough force to shove Duo's head back to the wall with a _\--_ hopefully _\--_ quiet thud. Impatient much?  
  
And it's _too much_ , even for his mouth, and he has to grab at Zechs's thighs in a vain attempt to gain some control of the situation. Because whoever said that when it comes to blowjobs, it's the giver who calls the shots apparently hasn't been talking from the perspective of one sandwiched between hard wood and an equally hard-muscled body. It would have been easier if it was Zechs leaning on the door, but hell, has any part of this whole... _whatever_ been easy? Like this, things can go ugly with barely an effort from the prince; he can do anything - and Duo can do nothing - even to _please_ \- as his cooperation is apparently not required, much less his efforts...  
  
He shouldn't have worried though since Merquise eases back almost instantly, curiously disinclined to gag or choke him or force...the issue...as it were, further than Duo is comfortable with. As it is, the prince appears content to keep to short _\--_ and rather shallow _\--_ thrusts, apparently seeking his pleasure from Duo's lips and not his throat. It irks Duo that he has to feel _grateful_ for something like that.  
  
It irks him even more that now he is hard too. Undeniably. _Aching_.  
  
And he _needs_ friction, pressure, something to grind _against_ \- but he refuses to touch himself _\--_ never in a million years, not like this _\--_ and he'll have to bear with it. At least he can allow his hands to find some purchase at the wood behind, to relieve the weight from his neck and shoulders. One good thing about this admittedly uncomfortable position _\--_ the bathroom door opens inwards, so no one can barge in on them. Hopefully the wood is thick enough to be soundproof too. His level of near-indifference at the thought however is downright scary.  
  
He can't spare attention for trivialities anyway since there are more pressing matters. The pace is quickening, as are Merquise breaths, strangely audible in the silence of the small room. Duo wishes he could see him _\--_ his face _\--_ but it proves impossible, what with the awkward positioning and mouth presently occupied. He's vaguely aware that somewhere above him the prince's upper body is curved forward, forehead touching the wood, palms braced against it _\--_ and good for him, or the bastard would be nursing broken fingers now, had he tried to even _touch_ Duo's hair, much less take a hold of it...The rhythmic movement makes Duo aware of his braid - still damp from when he took a shower earlier; he can feel its coolness at his nape where it's pressed to the door, and lower between his shoulder blades...  
  
...and just like that, and that fast, it's over.  
  
A moment of _pulsing_ , and a _surge_ that brings him flush with the door again and makes him gag a little, and then hot liquid fills Duo's mouth as he scrambles to grab Zechs's shaking hips again _\--_ to prevent him from pulling out too soon this time _\--_ because, well, the bastard can hate him all he likes, but Duo will _not_ put up with come on his face and that's that.  
  
When it's _really_ over, the prince finally stills _\--_ although Duo can still feel madly quivering muscles under his fingers _\--_ and a shaky sigh leaves his lips.  
  
It must have been a sigh because the small strangled sound cannot possibly have been anything else.  
  
Least of all a sob. Because that's unthinkable and that's that too.  
  
Then the prince steps back and Duo can finally relax his jaw, move his tongue and swallow completely, saliva, bitterness and all, whatever's left. No incriminating evidence this way.  
  
He can also sit down at last and stretch his legs on the floor, suddenly tired and unwilling to move more than that. Though they must join the others, while it's still not too late to pretend he and the prince never saw each other outside of the dining room.  
  
Much less in a restroom.  
  
Hn. The stiffness between Duo's legs is still there. He's not sure whether he wants something done about it. Not at all. Not with the way the prince is regarding him under the half-lowered fringe of his lashes. Duo can't decipher that look but the expression is haughty and one Duo knows well. It would have riled him up _\--_ last night it still did _\--_ but now he just can't bring himself to care anymore. No, he's not embarrassed. Neither by his current position at Merquise's feet, nor by his swollen and probably quite red lips. Admiring your handiwork, Your Highness? Enjoying your petty victory?  
  
So when Zechs simply turns around and proceeds to _wash his hands_ , Duo is not surprised _\--_ he had, in fact, expected it.  
  
What he hadn't expected is finding the whole thing so damn _funny_.  
  
But...think about it.  
  
Born on L2 and survived, despite all odds. Lived through hunger, pestilence, fire, and war. Left the wretched hellhole of a colony to fight, piloted a Gundam. Became one of the five people to save a planet and billions of lives, all by the age of sixteen. Currently sucking cock at a men's restroom.  
  
Oh, what an illustrious career. It's fitting, truly. As they say, you can't abandon your roots, not really. Although he could have ended doing _that_ with a lot less effort, had he stayed where he belonged.  
  
Though admittedly, there is still a difference. The restroom is not just _any_ restroom, but a _palace_ one, and the cock is not just anyone's but that of a fuckin' _prince_. It is a vast advancement from what it could have been, come to think of it. Probably not worth the bother, but an advancement still...  
  
He can't keep it inside at this point, laughter just bubbles _out_ , and when he catches Zechs turning - frowning _\--_ _finally got your attention?_ _\--_ he laughs even harder. Surprised, Highness? Never seen a hysterical person before?  
  
"What is the matter with you?"  
  
But Duo, finding a confused Zechs even funnier, just laughs and laughs. The prince is facing him completely now, scowling. _Sweet_.  
  
"This..." Duo manages at length, waving a wrist around. It succinctly indicates the bathroom, them, the situation. "How can you do this?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
Duo shuts up in utter disbelief. Is the bastard _for real?_  
  
"You just had your cock in my mouth!"  
  
"...Last night you had yours in mine; what is your point?"  
  
The innocence _\--_ _the insolence! --_ of the question renders Duo momentarily speechless. Not for long.  
  
"You- You're impossible!...What normal person treats people like that?"  
  
Seeing no understanding in the prince's eyes makes him shake his head in exasperation, more incredulous than angry.  
  
Yet.  
  
"Just...what am I to you? You simply...come and go and do what you feel like, is that what you're used to?...Is it because I'm from L2, so you don't think you need to bother? Or do you just hate me on a general principle?  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
Zechs is still looking at him in incomprehension, and it's way past the point of having an amusement factor. How utterly infuriating.  
  
"You, dammit! You're used to treating people like shit and I'm from a slum so let's face it, what am I to you?...A convenience? A toy?... Someone to fuck whenever you please without even a thank you? Your- "  
  
But he doesn't want to say it. Not really. Doesn't want to have that word out between them. No, no illusions. But it's a small miracle the prince hasn't _really_ offered to pay him. So he just adds softly, "Is it just me, or is anyone as good to walk over, _Your Highness? "_  
  
Zechs gives him a freezing look.  
  
It quickly transmutes into something else.  
  
Now comes the understanding, but it's different from the kind Duo expects. Zechs spends few heartbeats in silent contemplation, finally muttering: "I see...I should have known..."  
  
And Duo is pretty sure he won't like whatever Zechs is talking about, so he gets up from the floor in an angry huff and straightens.  
  
It appears there will be a fight after all.  
  
At least next time Sally asks he can tell the truth.  
  
"What?"  
  
The prince glances at him, and shifts to half-sit half-lean on the sinks counter.  
  
"This is all my fault. I should have known you wouldn't be able to deal with this-"  
  
" _Excuse me? "_  
  
"...but given your level of fighting abilities, your training, and skill...overall experience and maturity...You're old enough to kill, so I thought you are old enough to know what you are doing and what you want...Well, you are an emancipated minor but... I should have expected you were- are not mature enough to handle this. After all, you are only, what, seventeen?"  
  
" _The fuck!_ Don't call me a kid after what you just did! And stop talking down to me, you arrogant prick! I'm not one of your servants!"  
  
"My morality is beyond redemption." Zechs counters evenly. "And not of your concern. But since I can see that my title is bothering you, I will tell you this. My title _\--_ like my real name - has no meaning for me. The circumstances of my birth are accidental _\--_ just like yours, and whatever meaning they might have had, it was lost years ago." He pauses for a moment, but before Duo can react Merquise continues on. "I have _never_ thought of anyone _\--_ subordinate, servant, enemy - as being less than me simply because of the supposed status of my birth. That status does not matter to me. I have never, _ever_ considered myself better than you- any of you, in any respect. If anything, you five and Noin are probably the only people in the earth sphere and the colonies that I consider my _betters_ _\--_ in all that counts."  
  
The prince's jaw is clenched _\--_ _bitter?_ \- but his eye meet Duo's unflinchingly, and the unexpected seriousness reflected there throws Duo completely off.  
  
_Dumbfounding._  
  
"Then... _why?"_  
  
"...You like it that way."  
  
_...What?_   
  
"What?"  
  
"You find commands sexually appealing," the prince explains coolly as if what he's saying should be obvious, calmly crossing arms over his chest. "You get aroused when I order you around and take control- "  
  
" _Bullshit!_ That's not- " but Zechs tilts his head and just _looks_ at him, and Duo can barely finish.  
  
"...true."  
  
Is it?  
  
He's not into _that_ , is he? The thought makes him decidedly queasy. Sick to his stomach. Oh god. It can't be!...can it?  
  
If he had been dumbfounded before, he doesn't know what he is now. Though mortified would be a safe bet.  
  
"You truly didn't know?"  
  
As if Duo's expression isn't an answer enough. But it had never been like that with Heero, never!  
  
"Well, don't overthink it. It is very mild. And it does not reflect on your strength of character, if that's what has you worried. Chances are it excites you precisely because normally you find submitting to orders - and authority - abhorrent."  
  
But Merquise's patient, superior air _\--_ _I think of you as my better, my ass!_ \- is just too much to bear right now, so Duo shuts him out. That's not the point. The small humiliating bit of self-knowledge _\--_ and its possible relation to the truth - will have to be investigated and dealt with later.  
  
Or maybe he'll consider a memory-wipe and hope to never see Zechs Merquise ever again.  
  
"That doesn't matter. It still doesn't give you the right to treat me- anyone- like that. It's not _how_ , it's _what_ you do! Not just the ordering around- but last night- and just now...How can you be so- so _callous?_ " - it's not an accusation, really, just genuine incomprehension - "You simply take...use me however you like-"  
  
"If you were so much against it, why didn't you stop me then?"  
  
Duo blinks, pausing his rant at mid-sentence. "You didn't give me a chance-" but a derisive snort interrupts him again.  
  
"I thought you didn't lie. You are a Gundam pilot. I am quite certain you can kill me in at least half a dozen ways right now, as you are. Are you saying you could not stop me if I did something you didn't want?...Did you even try? Did you ever say _no?_ "  
  
Oh, surely he _must_ have. Absolutely.  
  
Or...  
  
"I didn't think it was an option."  
  
...  
  
And what if you realize it's not true only _after_ you've said it?  
  
For more reasons than simple untruth, he knows he should not have said that, as Zechs's suddenly _stricken_ expression makes Duo's stomach twist instantly in unexpected regret.  
  
But how could he have anticipated Zechs to care about something like that?  
  
And already the prince is taking a deep breath, an unnamable look darkening his eyes. Duo is pretty sure this must be what unadulterated hatred looks like.  
  
Or something.  
  
"...So," Zechs says slowly. "I use you. And what do _you_ do?"  
  
That throws Duo a bit off.  
  
Simply laughable. Yes.  
  
"What? Are you implying that _I_ use _you?_ "  
  
"Are you implying that you don't?" the prince easily counters. "Because, if that is the case you are either a hypocrite or a liar."  
  
He ignores Duo's gasp of outrage. "Why did you approach me the other night, _02?_..." Has it only been two nights? "You wanted to get back at Heero... _and_ Relena. You wanted someone to take it out on, someone who didn't matter... someone that you didn't have to care about, think about - unlike your _friends_ , because you didn't want to jeopardize your relationship with them...Am I not correct?"  
  
But Duo can only stare, suddenly frozen, as the prince presses on relentlessly.  
  
"You wanted someone you could do whatever you liked to _\--_ an enemy...safe to hate... with no messy consequences, no?...And you wanted a diversion... You wanted to forget all about Heero, you wanted something to take your mind off him...How is that _not using?_ You ask me what you are to me. And what am I to you, 02? Have you ever spared me a thought, like a person? About who I am, what I do, why I do it?... I at least asked you _\--_ but did you ever asked yourself why?... No - because all you ever think about is-"  
  
Zechs pauses abruptly and there's something Duo should know, _something_ , but he's too dumb to understand right now, because it can't be what it almost sounds like, and Zechs continues, unnaturally calmer.  
  
"You don't care about me _\--_ you don't have to - and you don't want to...even know me...You simply let me fuck you...We are not that different. I thought it was understood - I use you and you use me...And now you blame it all on me - guess I am useful for that too _\--_ relieves you from any responsibility, doesn't it? ...Even if that's what you wanted. You said - if memory serves _\--_ and it does - _no moonlit walks and roses._.."  
  
And the implied _I gave you what you asked for_ is so strong, Duo suddenly wonders - what if he _had_ asked for something else?  
  
But the prince is not finished.  
  
"And what now? Maybe in truth you wanted me to seduce you?... To _romance_ you?" And the way Zechs says it, it sounds ugly. His sneer is ugly too. "...Break your heart?...No. Because this way is safer...Wasn't that what you thought?"  
  
And Duo is missing something again...but that last bit successfully shatters the shock keeping him frozen. Oh, how considerate. The arrogant son of a bitch seems to think that had he been nicer, Duo would have fallen for him _\--_ _inevitably_. Hah!  
  
"Are you saying you did it all for me?" blurts Duo, voice rising, incredulous - the idea is more than outrageous; he would be laughing had he been a little less shaken. For whatever reason that is.  
  
Zechs's features are far from expressionless, discovers Duo all of a sudden. Too many emotions pass over the prince's face _\--_ a storm in his eyes, a storm in _Antarctica_ _\--_ and Duo can barely begin to identify them, much less to follow.  
  
Then they are left staring at each other.  
  
_What, is he for real?_  
  
The silence last just enough for Duo to _\--_ ridiculously, absurdly, impossibly _\--_ start expecting a _yes_.  
  
And long enough to start, somehow, believing.  
  
"...No."  
  
The prince straightens _\--_ for a final blow - and his voice could not be colder, full of malice increasing with every word.  
  
"I like your body. I like fucking it. It's nice to know I fucked one of you." There's no question who he means. "And I hope to god to see Heero's face when he learns I fucked you the way I did."  
  
Duo hits him then.  
  
The punch catches the prince in the middle, below the ribs, solar plexus most likely _\--_ in a move similar to the one Heero used on Duo himself on X18999 six months ago. But Duo is not Heero and Zechs is not him _\--_ instead of knocking the prince out, the punch merely blocks his lungs; a forced step back, hitting the marble counter - then he's suddenly doubling over and slowly folding to his knees, clutching at his chest, gasping for air.  
  
It's been a long time coming.  
  
Duo is towering over him for once, menacing, hands balled into fists, murder in his eyes and well within his capabilities. The hurt and outrage are consuming, burning him inside out - but...  
  
It should have felt more satisfying.  
  
Duo has no idea how much time passes like that, and doesn't care. For once, _this_ seems the most important thing right now, this fight, this... _something_ he has with the prince, currently struggling for breath on the floor.  
  
His mind goes blank as the rage recedes _\--_ there's nothing except the belated realization that Zechs has no intention of fighting him back, not even when his breaths turn from sharp gasps to painfully-sounding coughs to quiet wheezing.  
  
And the peculiar sense of something slipping out of his reach.  
  
_No_.  
  
There's nothing to regret.  
  
Absolutely.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Eventually the prince calms his breathing enough to look up _\--_ eyes a trifle pained but clear, then slowly stands up, straightening his shoulders, still holding his middle, looking suddenly weary and...  
  
_What does_ he _have to be sorry about?_  
  
"Yes," he says, inclining his head as if agreeing to an argument.  
  
Yes, _what?_ Yes, I'm sorry, yes, I was wrong, yes, I understand?  
  
"You got what you wanted," he finally rasps and Duo is certain this is a completely different line of thought already, "You wanted a bad guy, and I am that. I take full responsibility for what happened these last few days _\--_ it _is_ all my fault. You can keep your belief you have been taken advantage of, it's easier. I honestly never thought you unwilling, but since it is your perceptions of the situation that are relevant and not mine, and you truly believe I have forced you..." the prince bites his lip. "I never intended that. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I know it is not enough, and I am fully prepared to offer you any and all compensation should you require it, be it legal or otherwise, and to take any steps necessary to redress the wrong I have caused you."  
  
The prince bows slightly at this.  
  
_Compensation?_ Duo's mind is so confused...somehow not thinking money...but a _duel_ ...no matter how outlandish that notion seems.  
  
"I thought I would not care what people think about me anymore..." and despite the rueful words, Duo can feel coldness gathering around the prince like a shield, voice steeling. "...Apparently I was wrong. Being accused of rape is not something I have ever prepared myself for; and it is too unsettling- although I guess it is a part of the deal."  
  
_Deal, what deal?_ Zechs's words have robbed Duo of speech once again however, and probably of his ability to understand at all, the way his mind seems only capable of focusing on one word at a time.  
  
"...I accept that. You may rest assured you are safe from me in the future. Have a good life, Duo Maxwell. You have my word I will never approach you again."  
  
Three steps _\--_ past the frozen Duo _\--_ and the bathroom's door is closing behind the prince.  
  
This time, the soft click sounds truly final.  
  
Duo can't move, can't think.  
  
_Can't breathe._  
  
Sex. They've had sex three times, in various circumstances and at various places.  
  
And all he remembers at the moment is a dark corridor and the comfort of two arms around him - with the sinking realization that he will never have that, again.  
  
+  
  
The rest of the day passes in a blur. Duo rejoins his friends, and ignores their pointed looks. Something in his expression must preclude questioning however, as his _\--_ rather lengthy for a bathroom break - delay is never discussed. Nor do they ask him about Zechs.  
  
The prince never appears. Relena keeps glancing in the direction of the palace and at some point Noin disappears for a while, but returns alone.  
  
They have fun. Duo has a knack for that, even when on autopilot, and suddenly with too many things to think about - from an entirely new perspective. After all, he _is_ good at multitasking.  
  
Ultimately, it all proves useless. The next time they see the prince, it really is the end.  
  
At dinner Zechs announces that he is leaving for Mars.


	4. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Cinderzol   
> \--  
> Duo is sorry. Zechs isn't. The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Zechs had wanted to impress him.   
  
_Zechs_ had wanted to impress _him_.   
  
The notion is so outlandish, Duo has definite problems wrapping his head around it.   
  
That evening the prince had been the first to retire, as it has come to be expected of him. Not having a ready excuse to follow without arousing even more suspicion -- and not really wanting to cut short his time with his friends -- Duo had stayed much longer. They all had, and it had all been good.   
  
In the back of his mind, however, there had been one thing. One thought that wouldn't let him be at peace. And a decision he had already made.   
  
In the end, while all the others had gone to their rooms to change for bed, Duo had gone to his to change into something black, soft, and comfortable. Sleep the farthest thing on his mind, in spite of the mostly sleepless night he'd had previous.   
  
Time for action. At last.   
  
He had sneaked around large foyers and long corridors, avoiding security by habit, making his quiet way, wraith-like, to a bedroom at the other end of the palace. A bedroom with a huge canopied bed with tan sheets, and a carpet which smells of old books and smoke up close. Like, when you nearly smack your nose on it.   
  
It seems not everything around here is fake after all.   
  
Once there, he had slipped inside. Heart in his mouth, sweat on his palms, and a quick prayer on his lips.   
  
... To find the room empty.   
  
Talk about anti-climactic.   
  
A brief inspection had proved that not only the room was currently Zechs-free, it was devoid of any living presence _at all_. A permanent state, by the looks of it. Ergo, the prince was not living there. No wonder it had appeared that way the last time Duo had visited.   
  
An unexpected problem, that. Duo had thought hard and fast, plan after complex plan of finding Zechs's real quarters, and had finally done what any smart Gundam pilot with a lot of skill and little time would.   
  
He had gone straight to the first Preventer security agent in view and asked.   
  
If the man had been surprised by Duo popping out of thin air next to him, in the middle of the night, in a place where he should not have been, he never showed it. The guy had surprised _Duo_ with readily supplied information coupled with thorough lack of curiosity, sending him on his way to the _other_ end of the palace. Almost back where he had started from.   
  
Where he is presently going, quite openly and in plain view this time. Trying to hurry, _nonchalantly_. It is almost two after midnight. Soon it might get _too_ late for social calls. No, really.   
  
... _Why though_? Why another room? One as sumptuous and grand as _that_ one?   
  
If the prince had just been reluctant to let Duo in his private bedroom, any old coats closet would have done.   
  
Hell, any _restroom_ would have done.   
  
So.   
  
The prince had wanted to impress him.   
  
It's such a perfectly normal, perfectly... _human_ thing to do, Duo still finds it hard to believe it. About _Zechs_.   
  
And isn't that precisely the problem.   
  
Duo heaves a sigh, taking another turn, trying not to think about what he will say once he meets the prince. He is too nervous as it is.   
  
That he would see Merquise had never been in question, however. Right from when he had been left standing in that men's room on the first floor after breakfast. Duo simply can't let things end like this between them. Let _those_ be the last words of a man Duo will possibly never in his life meet again, given the startling dinnertime announcement.   
  
_Mars_. Fuck.   
  
For his own peace of mind and for the prince's. He has some apologizing to do.   
  
Another turn, another sigh. Sanq is a small kingdom. Why does it need such a huge palace anyway?   
  
... But yes. He does need to apologize. Not for the punch, no. _That_ Zechs had deserved. For almost everything else, however.   
  
Because, impulsive actions to the side, Duo had known even then that some untrue things were being said. And that some truths were never spoken about... He can dismiss the part that had been clearly meant to hurt him -- sort of -- now that he is actually thinking. Heh. Hurt and pride, and the combination thereof.   
  
What do you know. Zechs is actually human.   
  
It's a mess, and Duo is not sure of much but he knows one thing. He had insulted the prince.   
  
More than had been warranted.   
  
And, unlike Zechs, this he had done blindly. Not even _realizing_.   
  
What Duo had said... Had he really believed Zechs a monster? No matter how he had turned it around in his head since then, the answer was still no. And he definitely had not meant _that_.   
  
Whatever they had had... coercion had never been a part of it.   
  
He had known he could quit the game but hadn't wanted to quit _in_ the game. He could have said _no_ any time and ended it all... but while it had lasted, he had refused himself the option of backing down...   
  
Because.   
  
He didn't want it to end.   
  
Well, _damn_. Hindsight, 20/20. However, to his shame, for an instant or two he _had_ doubted... And still cannot believe it. He had started this whole affair with eyes wide open, that first time, understanding perfectly; and then had lost sight just like that. Had let himself build a situation and cast Merquise as the villain. After all, the prince has always been perfect for the part.   
  
He seemingly enjoyed it too.   
  
And maybe Zechs was right. Maybe Duo was too young for this, biting more than he could chew. He was such a brat... Jumping in front of the prince in the ballroom two days ago in _a jealous fit_. Spouting ridiculous propositions out of the blue...   
  
In the cool conditioned air of the palace, Duo can feel his cheeks grow hot with useless regret. _Now_ he knows he hadn't meant that either. Not really. All he had been looking for was a fight.   
  
And he got one. Eventually.   
  
Plus so much more, on the way there. Some truths about himself, for example.   
  
Like, how abysmally egocentric he could be on occasion. Never in his life has he treated a person as carelessly as he had treated the prince these past few days. And, for crying out loud, he had done so _on purpose_.   
  
He really _is_ a selfish brat...   
  
By popular opinion, Duo is a nice guy. A people person. He understands people, tries to know them, how they think, where they are coming from, what they are fighting for... It comes naturally. It's only fair. People are important. For the most part.   
  
But for the first time in his life, he had intentionally forgotten that. As Zechs had correctly pointed out, Duo had even set out _specifically_ to use someone for the purposes of distraction... and had had the audacity of accusing that same person of using _him_ afterwards.   
  
Ruefully shaking his head, Duo climbs a set of wide stairs for the next level, wondering when having a bad day had become a justifiable excuse for mistreating a random person.   
  
Well. In all fairness, it hadn't been just any bad day, like say, _having-a-bad-hair-day_ day. Rather, it had been _having-your-heart-broken-into-millions-of-pieces_ day...   
  
And the person he had chosen for mistreating...   
  
Relena's brother. Heero's archrival.   
  
Oh, so not random at all.   
  
Then, he had thought his choice inconsequential -- apart from the petty, abortive, not entirely conscious desire to hurt Heero and Relena in some small way -- but now he finds it strange to have never wondered about the prince, even from idle curiosity.   
  
All these months...   
  
They, all of them, had spent the past half a year working together. Zechs had always been around, somewhere, interacting with someone Duo knew, doing something that needed doing with another someone Duo knew... Or alone, more often than not. And what Duo knew about him had always been this: Zechs Merquise, former OZ. The Lightning Count. Milliardo Peacecraft, former Ambassador of Earth to the Colonies and former Leader of White Fang. Milliardo Peacecraft, Preventer Agent Wind. Prince Royal of Sanq.   
  
That is, Duo doesn't know the man at all.   
  
He had tried to redress the omission after their tumultuous... _talk_ in the restroom earlier and had come up with more. Things he should have known-- _could_ have known, had he stopped to think.   
  
Like, for example, that Zechs is, indeed, a _prince_. Of a _kingdom_. This _Sanq_ kingdom? Actually his _home_. Of course, everybody knows how it had been invaded and ruined in 182. When Duo had been two.   
  
Simple math.   
  
Zechs had been six.   
  
_Six_.   
  
Seeing your closest people get killed in front of you. Your whole life burnt to the ground...   
  
Eerie.   
  
Duo almost misses a step; takes a steadying breath. _Not now_.   
  
And more. In the early stages of the war, for Duo, Zechs Merquise had been _the freak with the hair who was always after Heero's ass_. (Now Duo has to wonder whether that wasn't what OZ had called _him_ in private... well, the first part at least.) And the name of the freak had been inescapably, always - _always_ \- connected to that of Treize Kushrenada.   
  
Of course. Duo had heard it all. The official intelligence. The rumors.   
  
The good: Treize's right hand, confidant, favorite, most trusted, most talented, best. _Friend_. The bad: lapdog, guard dog, pet, minion, lackey, henchman. _Traitor_. And the ugly... How exactly Merquise had been serving _under_ the General; what special services he had provided; to what lengths the Lightning Count would go to satisfy Kushrenada's desires...   
  
Had any of it been true?   
  
Zechs had definitely been receiving some special favors. Come on, that hair had been hardly regulation, much less the mask. Plus, he _had_ been Treize's friend, for a time. Protégé, undoubtedly. But anything else?   
  
... And if it had been true, had it been a simple deference to one's superior's wishes? Or had they loved each other? Maybe it had been one-sided? That Kushrenada or Merquise could have been in love... It sounds like a joke but...   
  
Funny enough, in war, you don't actually tend to think about your enemy's love life.   
  
That would make them too human, Duo would guess.   
  
Anyway. It is not his place to contemplate that now either. He has almost reached his destination. Last set of stairs, and a last sleepy looking Preventer on duty to nod at.   
  
He is quite grateful that nobody decides to talk to him and question his roaming around at night. Just like two nights ago. There are fewer people around at any rate, now with the celebrations over and all.   
  
He has more important things to think about than chatting with agents anyway. Like the love life of two of the biggest figures in the last war. _Wonderful_. As if his life isn't bizarre as is.   
  
But still, if it _had_ been true... .That must have sucked, big time. Kushrenada and Merquise had managed to end up on the opposite sides of the war fast enough. And now the war is over and... Treize is... _Oh, damn_.   
  
Duo would gladly lose Heero to Relena a thousand times over than see his ex-lover dead.   
  
He shivers at the morbid thought and is quite glad to have the door he's looking for in sight. Thank goodness. He hates introspection for a reason.   
  
It appears that indeed, the supposed abode of the prince is located almost where Duo's own guest room is, only three levels higher. He has just traversed the building for nothing. Twice.   
  
He is lucky though. The dimly lit corridor is currently empty. No security around for the moment.   
  
Which is good, since, once again, he does not feel like knocking.   
  
And the walk has done _some_ good. He does not feel quite as jittery as the first time around. Blessed be the wonders of distraction.   
  
He just hopes Zechs is really here ... as it occurs to Duo -- for the first time -- that the prince just might not be spending the night in his _own_ bed. Or _alone_. Duo smothers the thought. Instantly. He does _not_ need this now.   
  
And not just because he wouldn't be able to talk to Zechs that evening.   
  
Sneaking in is easy. For the past few weeks, he had not encountered a lock in the palace that could stop him. Not that he makes a habit out of it. Just... a little practice never hurts, right?   
  
... And oh, yes, the prince is in.   
  
+  
  
Once inside, Duo's breath catches at the sight -- the curtains are left open, and the room is virtually _doused_ in moonlight. It's still dark, although far brighter than one would expect for the purposes of sleeping. Rather cold too. Zechs is in the bed - _alone_ \- in a dark tee-shirt barely discernible amidst darker bedcovers, facing away from Duo, and... _Damn, he even sleeps with his hair loose?_... How in the blazes does he manage that?   
  
... And that's about all the advantage Duo can get, time-wise, as in the next instant Zechs is whirling around, hand darting under the pillow. Where it halts.   
  
Lightning reactions or not, he had still been two seconds late -- two seconds _dead_ \-- had Shinigami come with more sinister intentions. Shinigami is childishly pleased.   
  
Then the prince pulls his hand out -- empty -- and simply sits up, bracing his back against the headboard. His arms lift up unhurriedly for a moment to push the pale hair back over his shoulders and then fall to rest in his lap.   
  
Waiting. As if all this is normal.   
  
Once again, Duo should not find his composure admirable but he does.   
  
He is not even sure whether Zechs had recognized him -- he is still in the shadow of the door -- but the prince evidently, and rather foolishly, believes his nighttime visitor means him no harm.   
  
_Or he just doesn't care_.   
  
The prince simply sits there, unmoving and unmoved. _Stunning_ , notes some part of Duo that is in the habit of noticing such _unnecessary_ things. The moon has that effect on the prince, realizes Duo for a second night in a row, distracted momentarily by the perfect, cold face framed by the perfect, made-for-moonlight hair.   
  
The sight should not make his stomach feel funny. But it does.   
  
Duo steps out of the shadow and is disappointed to find no change in Zechs. Maybe he had recognized him immediately after all. And Merquise is not only patiently keeping silent; he manages not to look even curious, or surprised, or annoyed, or... anything really. It's as disconcerting as ever.   
  
Though he does seem somewhat tired, if one looks carefully, and Duo does. _As if he isn't getting much sleep lately either_...   
  
But Duo had expected _some_ reaction -- a snide comment about how imprudent it is to visit someone's bedroom at night after accusations like _that_ , or at least a politely phrased request -- _demand_ \-- for Duo to leave him alone. He did make clear he didn't want anything to do with Duo anymore after all. But there is nothing.   
  
Duo bites his lip, nervousness building at the pit of his stomach, wondering whether he is making yet another mistake.   
  
But he has to finish what he had started. Two nights ago.   
  
He spots a chair near a small wall table and sits, not waiting for the invitation that isn't coming, facing the rather normally-sized bed. The room is quite similar to his guest bedroom actually, surprisingly enough for the prince who _supposedly_ lives here, and nothing like the one he had visited previously.   
  
The reminder of the prince's innocuous -- and completely unnecessary -- ruse makes Duo feel slightly better.   
  
"Why _that_ room?" he can't help but ask, whimsically.   
  
The prince shrugs almost imperceptibly. "I wanted any advantage I could have," he replies, readily enough, without missing a beat, his usual rasp somehow oddly fitting the quiet atmosphere. At Duo's incredulous scoff he adds, "It worked."   
  
... And that's that.   
  
Though the confirmation doesn't make it any more believable.   
  
_And stalling doesn't help_.   
  
Zechs's eyes glimmer in the faint light, dilated and darker, serious. Duo holds his breath, trying to focus on the goal. The goal is to stay calm for what he has to admit now.   
  
"I'm sorry," he says, and he means it. "I lied."   
  
And so it begins.   
  
He tries to explain, as calmly and as earnestly as possible, how he hadn't meant what he had said earlier in the restroom. What had led him to say it. That he would not give himself the option of refusing through no fault of Zechs's own. That he had behaved like an immature kid and had selfishly disregarded the truth of the situation for as long as it had suited him, refusing responsibility afterwards. That indeed, he had used Zechs -- for precisely the reasons the prince had surmised -- and the excuse of being left no choice, while welcoming the distraction all the while. That no, he had not been forced, into any of it, and the prince shouldn't feel responsible over Duo thoughtless -- and baseless -- accusation.   
  
It comes out neither smooth, nor eloquent. It takes a lot. Admitting any of this... to someone like the prince... About as pleasant as pulling teeth.   
  
His own. With a hatchet.   
  
But Duo owes him that, for the insult of thinking so low of him, and for more. Recent mistakes notwithstanding, Duo is grownup enough to admit the error of his ways, once he'd seen it.   
  
It takes a while, under Merquise's watchful gaze which only serves to torture him more. Far worse than he had imagined it for some reason, and by the end Duo's voice comes strangely strangled. He has to cough to clear it.   
  
"And I'm sorry... for the way I approached you at the ball." This time he even manages to meet the eyes of the man he is apologizing to. _Pitiful_. He could just _kick_ himself for this.   
  
He had tried several times throughout his monologue but saying these things faced with the flat and unresponsive stare of the prince had made his resolve break instantly. It's cowardly, yes, but it's imperative to say his apologies once and for all. Impossible with the constant reminder of the prince's indifference.   
  
"I can't help it if you don't believe me but I don't make a habit of... of doing that. And the Heero thing... it was the first time... I saw them like that, I guess. I- I wanted to take it out on someone... I didn't really know what I was doing... I didn't think... "   
  
He lets his voice fall, and his eyes drop too and slide away again as his courage deserts him once more. _Damn it all to hell_. But there is something about the prince: his eyes and stance and bearing -- his whole _attitude_ \-- that is making Duo stammer ever more, and damn, he does _not_ need this. He grips the armrests, hard, and has to fight not to rush through the rest.   
  
"And I- I don't know what you were doing either, and your reasons... and now that's a moot point, isn't it, as you're leaving... " For _Mars_. "... I don't want us to part like this, hating each other... because I... I don't think I hate you, and I don't blame you for anything that happened. Despite what you said, I know it was all my fault. So... can't we... " _Can't we part like_...   
  
But there is no end to that sentence.   
  
He looks up, hoping against hope for _some_ understanding. And really, he should know better. There is no change. No reaction. Zechs's expression is as serious as in the beginning of Duo's little speech but that's all. His eyes are shadowed by his bangs and unnaturally dark in the moonlight but it's not moonlight that makes them so cool and dispassionate.   
  
And he still says nothing.   
  
Duo leans back in the chair, suddenly drained. Of energy and emotion.   
  
_Whatever_. He had said what he had come to say -- done right by himself. He hadn't expected a reward for it. Nor gratitude, all things considered.   
  
There's nothing left to do.   
  
He should say something -- a farewell of some sort -- and leave, but nothing comes to mind.   
  
... Strange though... He could swear he had not expected -- nor hoped for -- anything coming here tonight. Nuh-uh. No expectations whatsoever.   
  
But if that had been true... Would his stomach suddenly be hurting with something that feels cold and hard... as it does now? With each second that the silence stretches, the numbing sensation gets stronger --   
  
And it feels too much like disappointment.   
  
... _God, Duo, but you can be stupid sometimes... You never learn, do you?_   
  
He had set himself up, again.   
  
With no good reason, this time.   
  
And, once again, he has only himself to blame.   
  
But _fuck_ \-- this is _impossible!_ \-- it's been only a few days -- and with the way Zechs had treated him-- they had treated each other--   
  
... Why now?   
  
... Why _him_?   
  
Despite Zechs's best intentions to keep him away.   
  
... or because of them.   
  
No... Fuck it. It is _not_ possible to have two heartbreaks in three days. It is _not_.   
  
In theory.   
  
He _really_ doesn't need this now.   
  
And there's no time for this -- so he better stop with the mental flailing and force his mind off the panic-inducing little notion of exactly what he had been hoping for.   
  
_Stupid, Duo. Real stupid_.   
  
Oh, Duo can readily admit to finding the prince attractive -- who wouldn't -- in some _academic_ , totally _irrelevant_ sense. Had thought him attractive for quite some time now. That's not the point.   
  
The point is, he doesn't _know_ the man. At all.   
  
So this is just stupid.   
  
... But.   
  
He'd like to know him.   
  
Because, reading between the defensive lines of offensive words and actions, somewhere along the way Duo had seen glimpses of a man worth getting known... Someone who, Duo suddenly feels, he would give an arm to know better. A man he could possibly... if only...   
  
And now he won't.   
  
Ever.   
  
All the will in the world...   
  
... and absolutely no, fucking, way.   
  
The whole unfairness of it all.   
  
But the _if only_ s and _what if_ s are so damn... _unbearable_ , it's killing him _right now_ \-- this wretched feeling of missing a chance, of losing something rare, something that _might_ have been -- that for a split second Duo is entertaining the absurd thought of actually begging the prince to stay.   
  
Futile, he knows. He would be insulting the prince's intelligence to believe Zechs's decision had been influenced in any way by a quick tumble or two in bed -- or out -- or by Duo's behavior at all, except maybe in timing the announcement. One does not take the decision to go to the veritable end of the world lightly, or without extended deliberation. And Duo does not overestimate his importance that much as to harbor any delusions about affecting that decision once it had been taken.   
  
..But wait ... The prince had known he'd be leaving soon all the time... .so... is that why... ? ‘ _Did you want me to break your heart_?' Zechs had asked... _Oh, fucking great_. That this could explain the nastiness of the past few days... makes some sort of perverse sense now. And given the prince's little parting _noblesse oblige_ speech of just hours ago, Duo can't put it past him. _So fucking noble_.   
  
Forget it. Even if by some miracle Zechs stayed... .what good would it do anyway? Nothing could happen. Probably. After all, Duo is utterly - _hopelessly_ \- out of Zechs's league, in anything but piloting a Gundam. Totally outclassed. What could he offer the prince? Himself? That he already did, with the first words he'd spoken to the man.   
  
And look where that had brought him.   
  
... Still...   
  
Even if there is no guarantee...   
  
... and the chance is one in a million...   
  
It is still one millionth bigger than it will be with Zechs on Mars.   
  
If only...   
  
_God_.   
  
Can you mourn something that hasn't even started?   
  
There is a slight movement from the bed and Duo starts with the sudden realization he is spacing out -- and _where_. _Get a grip, Maxwell_. The enemy's bedroom, at night. Just his luck. The worst time and place to have an unfortunate epiphany in.   
  
A glance at the prince reveals Zechs is still watching Duo intently. Now with a somewhat -- bemused? searching? -- expression.   
  
_As if he wants me to say something more._   
  
And it's suddenly too _knowing_ for comfort.   
  
Screw farewells. He needs to get out of here.   
  
Duo lets the armrests go and gathers up to leave, motions careful and deliberate, refusing to appear embarrassed or in a hurry. Body and thoughts in tight control, randomly reminding him of that one time he had to demonstrate a crew of sweepers that a thirteen-year old could, in fact, function quite well with three beers in his system. He had won the bet, but he still remembers the unnatural concentration it had taken to move his limbs in the correct manner. One foot in front of the other. Step here. And another. Now the door. Find a dark corner somewhere. To double over in, and wait for it to pass. And if he pukes, well, it won't be from beer this time.   
  
Then the prince utters one word, and it proves not hurrying a mistake.   
  
"Wait."   
  
Duo freezes in mid-motion, hand not even reaching the doorknob yet; gut twisting with the sick feeling of knowing the words that are coming.   
  
"Come here."   
  
Oh god.   
  
No.   
  
Please, _please_ , god, no. Not this time. Not now.   
  
_Not this._   
  
Not after everything -- everything he had said, the soul dissection, the gut wrenching, the apology, the remorse, the admission of guilt...   
  
_It didn't matter at all._   
  
And it is too cruel, even for Zechs.   
  
Duo half-turns, ever so slowly, not looking at the figure on the bed.   
  
"Zechs, I... I don't think--"   
  
" _Come. Here_."   
  
No quarter. He keeps forgetting surrender doesn't necessarily guarantee that from the enemy.   
  
So it can only be like this, between them. Maybe Zechs hadn't been lying about his reasons after all.   
  
Duo lets his head hang for a moment; then, with a sigh, turns back completely. Evidently, the words had not been enough.   
  
And if this is what takes Zechs to forgive him...   
  
Somehow he manages to get his feet moving in direction of the bed. Fully aware that he is likely losing the last shreds of respect Zechs had ever held for him. Careful not to slip from the tight concentration his movements still seem to require.   
  
Careful not to slip a _please_ past his lips.   
  
Because begging is cheating, and Duo does not deserve the reprieve. A _please_ might stop Zechs.   
  
Or it might not, and then it would be infinitely worse.   
  
It's going to be hard. Hard to do this when you don't want to, and for the first time, he completely, _truly_ doesn't. Harder still, with his newfound -- devastating -- realization.   
  
It's so odd that it should make a difference...   
  
He is not even a little hard.   
  
Well. One good thing about all this -- the prince's commanding ways don't seem to have the usual alarming -- alluring -- effect of exciting him. It appears Duo's oh-so-wrong fascination with orders is not universal, thank God, not even only person-specific, but highly contingent: on the right time, right place, right mood.   
  
Right frame of mind.   
  
For playing games. Right. And the game is over. Now he is expected to pay the price for starting it.   
  
And losing.   
  
... What's it called in war? Ah, yes. ‘ _Retribution_.'   
  
Or was it revenge?   
  
Once at the side of the bed, he is left just standing there, eyes focused on a stray moonbeam, not really seeing, feeling strangely light-headed. _Breakable_ , the way sitting in the cockpit about to press the self-destruct had not. The prince hadn't moved, seemingly enjoying his summoning powers, looking for all his worth the king he is not, and in no apparent hurry now that Duo has come to him. Funny, never before Duo has believed him cruel.   
  
It suddenly occurs to him that this is the last time he can be this close to the prince. So it's alright. He'll have one more memory, wouldn't he. _It's worth it._   
  
Pushing the covers away, Zechs languidly rolls onto his knees on the bed, sleeping pants riding low on his hips, a strip of pale skin visible underneath the dark tee-shirt. Duo notes absently that the prince is still taller than him, even like this. No matter -- except that now, instead of dark bedcovers, the moonbeam is caressing a milky collarbone -- pooling into its hollow -- and Duo's eyes inadvertently follow. As good place as any, thinks Duo, trying not betray the unexpected -- irrational -- panic that grips him with Zechs's abrupt closeness.   
  
It doesn't make any sense.   
  
At the same time he feels like leaning in and resting his forehead on the prince's shoulder. Just for a moment. _Just once_.   
  
But it is not what they do.   
  
There is a tennis ball lodged in Duo's throat, he suddenly discovers. He did play tennis today; he can easily identify them. Fuzzy and scratchy, and just about the right size. Makes it hard to swallow and near impossible to breathe. Makes his eyes kinda watery. He can't even lower his lashes for fear of disturbing the precarious balance that keeps the moisture from spilling.   
  
Damn. There is something severely wrong with him these last few days. He'll have to put himself in order, soon, but... not right now. It takes too much, and he's too bone-tired to fight it.   
  
And it hurts _physically_ , not crying does. He's always known, though currently it seems he hasn't been this close to giving in for god knows how long.   
  
But it simply _won't_ do. If pleading is underhanded, crying is doubly so.   
  
It gets even worse when Zechs grips the bottom of his hoodie and -- expecting compliance and finding it with Duo lifting his arms up, doll-like -- pulls it over Duo's head, the braid clinging to the cloth for a second longer. It is clear that the prince is done with the orders, and will be doing the undressing himself.   
  
It doesn't feel like the reverse of two nights ago.   
  
Duo's pants follow, and are dealt with just as unceremoniously. He toes off his shoes and socks all on his own, still not looking anywhere but at the prince's elegantly defined collarbone. Or Zechs's expression might be such as to render not-crying truly impossible.   
  
_Just a couple of minutes_.   
  
Then Duo can bury his face in the mattress and pretend, again, it's from the physical.   
  
Then it gets worse _yet_. Duo had subconsciously expected Zechs's hands at his waist next -- to pull his tee-shirt up, underwear down. Instead, they snake over his shoulders and go straight for his braid.   
  
For a moment, Duo stiffens in shock, and has to fight his own reflexes to allow this final insult to the forthcoming injury-- _please_ , isn't this enough as it is?... If the prince undoes the braid, he will undo him too--   
  
But Zechs simply moves the braid over Duo's left shoulder, _carefully_ \-- _wha...?_ \-- and not giving him time to contemplate the odd proceedings, swiftly lies down again. Pulling Duo with him, and the covers over them.   
  
Duo is momentarily disoriented. The unexpected move leaves them both curled on their right sides, the prince at Duo's back -- _spooning??_ \-- if not for the fact that their bodies are hardly touching. The biggest exception being Zechs' left arm, somehow left over Duo's middle in the process... and not moving away. In fact, the prince has stilled completely... and Duo can only lie there, _expecting_. Rigid all over. With Zechs's arm feeling strange on his waist, like a foreign object.   
  
Duo doesn't know how much time passes like this -- surely not much -- but it is enough for the excess moisture in his eyes to dry out, unspilled. Even the tennis ball had disappeared, leaving his throat only a bit sore. Confusion can be damn useful at times, it seems.   
  
But this _waiting_ is twisting his insides in a way that soon proves too intolerable.   
  
"You're... you're not going to?... " he asks when he is finally sure he can speak. Though of little else.   
  
"... No."   
  
Suddenly there is not enough air in his lungs. The breath hitches in his throat -- he dares not breathe -- for fear the world will come crashing down on him, and he will go down crashing with it. _Overwhelming_. It's not even relief -- at least not _only_ \-- more like _loosening_ \-- and the _possibility_ \-- the absurd, _insane hope_... And it's too much, too sudden -- he feels like falling through the mattress and it takes forever... Duo's heart is beating so hard and fast now, it's almost more painful than before.   
  
He has to swallow twice before attempting speech again.   
  
"I don't want... " _What I had with Heero_. "I can't have ... " _The way it was with Heero_.   
  
But he doesn't know how to say this without sounding weak, and is it even his place to put forward conditions? Maybe he should just be grateful for anything Zechs could spare...   
  
"I know," the prince says, and the arm at Duo's middle suddenly doesn't feel so foreign anymore. After a slight, if atypical, hesitation -- as if unsure of its welcome -- it flexes infinitesimally; and somehow it's enough to bring Duo completely to the prince's chest, _close_ ; body to body, _no holds barred_. Close enough that when Zechs adds a soft "Sleep, Duo," Duo can _feel_ the name on the prince's breath -- his lips -- moving the hairs on his nape. And he can feel a faint hardness at his backside but now it's somehow comforting.   
  
Nothing short of wonder.   
  
He closes his eyes again, and can't help a small smile in the darkness.   
  
"Will you ever kiss me?"   
  
Well, it hasn't happened before -- that one time outside the ballroom the other day had been a hostile invasion, nothing more... And Duo wants - _badly_ \- to know he's reading this right.   
  
There is a pause; it sends his heart sinking--   
  
"I will," replies the prince, with the barest hint of amusement. But he also sounds very serious as he adds, "Tomorrow." And it's definite. A promise. Hope. _Future_. It's what takes for the tightness in Duo's chest to melt completely. "I will kiss you tomorrow, Duo."   
  
The second time is as perfect as the first. Duo can finally relax and knows that Zechs can feel it too. A little unsure on his own part, Duo's left hand finds the prince's one that is holding him. The long fingers spread instantly, letting his lace through, and squeeze. Tight.   
  
And it is enough.   
  
+  
  
_Tomorrow_ , is Duo's last thought as he allows Zechs's warmth to lull him to sleep.   
  
  
The End   
Absolutely.


End file.
